


A Love Found and Lost

by Morgana_avalon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana_avalon/pseuds/Morgana_avalon
Summary: Glorfindel decides to join Haldir when the Elves march for Helm's Deep, and the night before Glorfindel leaves, Erestor seeks him out and they make love.





	1. Chapter 1

A Love Found and Lost

 

In utter disbelief and shock, Erestor pulled Glorfindel’s lifeless body onto his lap. “By the Grace of the Valar, how could you allow this?” Wailing miserably, Erestor cradled Glorfindel’s bloody and cold corpse against him. The warrior still wore his armor, which had failed to keep him safe in battle. Behind him, terrified screams escaped the throats of Men and the keep vibrated with explosions. The Uruk-hai released a triumphant roar and stormed forward, invading the Hornburg like a festering disease.

 

But the screams of agony lost their ugly roar as Erestor looked at Glorfindel’s still face – his handsome features frozen in death. “You cannot die on me, Glorfindel. I need you!” Cradling the heavy body against him, he rocked the other Elf in his arms. Hair that had once sparkled like the sun had turned matte and dark with blood – Glorfindel’s blood. As Erestor tenderly ran fingertips down Glorfindel’s face, tears sprang from his eyes.

 

“No!” Erestor sat upright in bed, startled and thoroughly shaken from the nightmare he had just had. His hair was damp and a fine layer of sweat covered the rest of his body. Tears leaked from his eyes, but he didn’t even bother wiping them away, overcome with fear and fright. Glorfindel couldn’t die! Wouldn’t die at Helm’s Deep!

 

The blond warrior’s words had haunted him for days now. Three days ago, Glorfindel had announced he would join Haldir when the ‘Lorien army marched for Helm’s Deep. Erestor knew deep in his heart that Glorfindel, the warrior, couldn’t stand by and watch others march to their death. And that he would lose him.

 

They had been friends – good friends – for millennia now and the prospect of losing Glorfindel terrified him. Even more so because he had loved the blond for the last few hundred years, but he hadn’t wanted to upset the pleasant balance between them by admitting he had feelings for Glorfindel, as he had no idea how the warrior would react. So he had remained quiet instead.

 

But what about now -- this last night before Glorfindel would leave Imladris? Tomorrow morning, Glorfindel would join Haldir and the troops and only the Valar knew if he would ever see the blond again!

 

Looking at his hands, he found that they had turned into claws and he had shredded the fine silken sheet. /Was it just a nightmare? Or was it more?/ Like Elrond, he was cursed with the gift of foresight, and although it didn’t haunt him as often and as strongly as it did the half-Elf, he was confronted with the future on occasion. What if Glorfindel would find his death at Helm’s Deep? What if it was just concern and an overly active imagination? Did he dare take the risk?

 

He briefly thought about attempting to change the blond’s mind, but he knew his friend well enough to understand that Glorfindel *had* to go – had to fight. The warrior in him demanded so. So what *was* there left for him to do? /I cannot tell him I love him. Not on the night before he marches for Helm’s Deep./ But he could *show* Glorfindel how much he cared without ever saying those important words.

 

The more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. One night of passion with Glorfindel. He was fairly certain the warrior wouldn’t reject him. Glorfindel *did* care about him and this *was* Glorfindel’s last night in Imladris – and in safety. Why reject him?

 

He pushed back the covers and slowly sat upright. Darkness surrounded him and felt oppressing. Erestor stared into the black void and made up his mind. Rising from the bed, he made his way into the bathroom, where he filled the pool with warm water. After adding rose-scented oil to the water, he removed his night shirt and descended into the pool, letting the water cleanse and surround him. He reached for the soap and created lather.

 

Erestor rinsed the foam from his body and ran a comb through his raven hair, which reached past his waist. Dripping wet, he left the pool and wrapped himself up in soft towels. Erestor dried his skin and then sat down in front of the mirror, studying his reflection.

 

Several Elves had told him he was desirable, beautiful even, but he had taken none of them to his bed; his heart solely belonged to Glorfindel, even though the warrior didn’t know it.

 

Using the brush, he rid himself of the last tangles and let his long hair hang loose. It danced against the small of his back and his large, dark eyes burned with the reminder of the nightmare that still clung to him.

 

He rose, thoughtfully, and reached for a midnight-blue robe, which he draped over his shoulders. A phial, filled with sandalwood-scented oil caught his attention and he removed the stopper, letting some droplets run into the palm of his hand. He then worked the substance into the dark tresses, which now shone like ebony.

 

Satisfied with his appearance, he let the phial slip into a pocket. Erestor made his way over to the doorway, his mind set and calm. If one night with Glorfindel was all that the Valar were willing to give him, he would take it, and fully embrace it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The knock on his door came unexpectedly and made Glorfindel spin around. He had expected them to leave him alone on this last evening, as he had requested so. Who would dare ignore that request? He had already said his goodbyes to Elrond, the twins and even Erestor. In the end, his curiosity got the better of him and he answered the door. Surprised, he looked at Erestor, who stood still and silent in the corridor. “Erestor?” What was the Lord Councilor doing here?

 

Erestor didn’t answer him, and entered his private chambers instead. Glorfindel’s gaze followed the raven beauty as Erestor made his way over to the desk, where Glorfindel had laid out his weapons for a last inspection. The dark-haired Elf carefully lifted the long, Elven sword and balanced it in his hand. “It is a good sword,” said Glorfindel, puzzled by Erestor’s actions.

 

Erestor nodded once and then placed the sword back onto the desk. Glorfindel advanced on his friend and tried to label the expression in the dark eyes, but failed in doing so. “Erestor, I asked you not to seek me out. This is hard enough as it is.” Still, Erestor didn’t speak, which was out of character for the normally talkative advisor. “Why are you here?” And why did Erestor carry the scent of Sandalwood with him? Why did the jet-black hair call to him? And those eyes – those large, deer-like eyes… “You know I cannot stand back and watch them die. I have to be there. I have to fight alongside our brethren. I cannot stay here and pretend there is no war.”

 

Glorfindel slowly grew worried now that Erestor remained quiet. “Erestor, my dearest friend, tell me…” But Erestor shook his head and took hold of his hand instead. Glorfindel allowed it, wondering what Erestor was up to, and when the advisor guided him to the bed, he followed. “Erestor, I asked you not to come here and yet…” He was pushed onto the bed and sat down reluctantly whilst Erestor remained standing. “You are making this so much harder, my friend.”

 

Erestor smiled, ruefully, and slowly went down onto his knees. Glorfindel’s mouth went dry, seeing the loving, seductive expression in the chocolate brown eyes. “Erestor, what are you doing?” His eyes widened, feeling Erestor’s long, slender fingers undo the lacing of his leggings. “Erestor?” He wanted to sweep those hands away, but something in Erestor’s eyes stopped him.

 

Soft lips unexpectedly took his in a gentle kiss and all he could do was moan his approval. He had dreamt of a moment like this, but never had his fantasy left the realm of dreams. Was this a dream then? But no, Erestor felt real when he tentatively buried his fingers in the silken hair. Was this a gift then?

 

His wondering eyes sought out Erestor’s and he thought he saw love there, but could he truly be sure of that? He left for a suicide mission tomorrow… What motivated Erestor then? Was the advisor doing this out of love or pity? Did he really want to know? No.

 

Stealthy fingers slipped inside his leggings, pushing the fabric away. Erestor’s kisses and touches had their desired effects and he was quickly growing aroused. “Erestor, I…” But Erestor placed a finger across his lips and Glorfindel grew quiet, accepting this gift.

 

Erestor slid the leggings down and gestured for Glorfindel to step out of them, which the blond did. Already hard, Glorfindel’s erection enjoyed the gained freedom and eagerly bobbed free. His breath caught, seeing Erestor lean in closer. The ends of the soft hair caressed his skin and then eager, hot lips closed over the head of his hard flesh, suckling gently. “Oh…” Instinctively, he tightened the hold he had on the black strands of hair, reassuringly rubbing the scalp beneath it. His other hand came to rest at the nape of Erestor’s neck, massaging the tense muscles there.

 

Throwing back his head, Glorfindel mumbled encouragingly and couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into the moist and hot mouth, unwillingly forcing Erestor to take in more of his length. As he slid in deeper, heat surrounded him and he began to thrust in earnest. A part of him wondered why Erestor allowed this – and why the advisor knew how to pleasure him in this way – but the sensation was too pleasurable to allow his thoughts to wander much. A hand slid upward and cupped his testes, cunningly manipulating them, whilst the suckling sensation intensified. Calling out in ecstasy, he climaxed and his body trembled with release. Glorfindel stared at Erestor in rapture, finding that the raven beauty was dutifully swallowing. Not a single drop made it past the luscious red lips. Lips, which he had longed to taste for decades now.

 

Slowly, Erestor let the sated organ slip from his lips, and his warm tongue now wrapped itself around the member, cleaning it. Glorfindel felt weak in the knees, seeing the dedication and love, with which Erestor performed this act. “You…”

 

Erestor looked up then, and the large, almond-shaped eyes pleaded with him not to speak, not to ruin this moment by using words. “Thank you,” Glorfindel said eventually and the words made Erestor smile.

 

Erestor bestowed one last kiss onto the sated member and then slowly rose from the floor. Glorfindel stared at the advisor with respect, love and lust, and when Erestor pushed the midnight-blue robes from his shoulders, he swallowed hard, as a perfect body was revealed – just right for making love. Was that it? Was that Erestor’s true gift? Did the advisor want to give himself in an even more intimate way? Had this only been foreplay?

 

Steadfast, Erestor undid the buttons to Glorfindel’s shirt and pushed it down, revealing all of him to the advisor’s eyes. The sight must have pleased the Lord Councilor, for Glorfindel saw Erestor grow hard with need. Fingernails trailed down Glorfindel’s chest and his flat abdomen, whilst Erestor seductively licked his lips.

 

When Erestor pushed him onto his back, Glorfindel complied most eagerly, pulling the dark-haired Elf down with him – atop of him. Flesh moved against flesh and Erestor’s erection already leaked pre-ejaculate, proving to Glorfindel how much the other Elf needed and wanted him.

 

Erestor straddled Glorfindel’s hips and then bent forward to kiss his lips. Glorfindel moaned and brought his arms up behind the other Elf’s back. “What do you want?” he whispered in between kisses. He wasn’t hard yet, but his member was already twitching with interest. To his surprise, Erestor finally spoke.

 

“Please take me.”

 

Those three little words made Glorfindel swallow hard. “As you wish.” If only Erestor knew how many nights had been filled with dreams like this! Rolling Erestor onto his side, Glorfindel spooned behind him. “We need oil.” Erestor looked at him from over his shoulder and pushed something into his hand. Opening his fingers, Glorfindel identified a phial, doubtlessly filed with oil. “You came well-prepared.”

 

But Erestor looked away from him, curled up on his side and pulled his knees against his chest. Glorfindel nodded and drew in a deep breath. He had never thought he would ever make love to Erestor – only in his dreams, but never in real life – and he took his time, running his large warrior’s hands over the lithe body. Compared to his rather bulky frame, Erestor appeared small, fragile even, but Glorfindel would never make the mistake of underestimating the advisor.

 

Placing the phial aside for the moment, he tenderly caressed Erestor’s body, pushed the dark hair aside and nuzzled the neck. “You smell delicious.” At this point, he wasn’t surprised when no reply was forthcoming and he ran his hands down Erestor’s flanks, ending up cupping one round buttock. With his other hand, he reached for the phial. After removing the stopper, he let the oil drip onto his hard flesh, luxuriously coating himself. Right now, he felt truly grateful that Erestor had already made him come, for it meant he would last much longer and he wanted their union to last!

 

Glorfindel parted Erestor’s buttocks and his erection snuggled between the warm flesh, perfectly positioned for penetration. He stopped himself then and asked, “May I enter you?”

 

Tremors rocked Erestor’s body and were clearly audible in his voice when he said, “Aye, I beg of you.”

 

Glorfindel pressed close against Erestor’s back and slowly breached him, pushing past the guardian muscle and taking possession of the tight channel that now gripped him. He closed his eyes in bliss, enraptured that Erestor was this tight. He continued slowly, reminding himself to be careful as he didn’t want to cause the other Elf any discomfort. His lips sought and found the soft skin of Erestor’s throat and they kissed first, suckling later. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Erestor and tried to press as close to the Elf in front of him as possible. Savoring the sensation, he resisted thrusting just yet. He had dreamt of this for so long!

 

But in the end, the need to find release won and he thrust a first time, perfectly angling to brush the sensitive nub inside Erestor’s body. The raven beauty moaned beautifully and Glorfindel took pity on him, quickening the pace of his strokes and penetrating him deeper. He didn’t know when he lost control, but soon he was plunging deep into the tight channel in search of release. Pulling Erestor close to him, he shallowly bit into the soft skin of the raven-haired Elf’s throat. One hand found its way down Erestor’s abdomen and wrapped possessive fingers around the weeping shaft, delivering firm strokes to the slippery flesh.

 

Warm cream erupted from the slit and covered his hands with the evidence of Erestor’s passion for him. Spasms erupted around his still buried member and Glorfindel groaned, stilling his movements and thus letting Erestor guide him to his orgasm. Bright lights exploded behind his closed eyelids – this orgasm was the most intense one he had ever had!

 

Even Exhausted, Glorfindel never let go of Erestor, making certain the advisor remained close and confined in the embrace. Cuddling close, he pressed kisses onto the damp hair. “Thank you.” His member had softened and unwillingly left Erestor’s body. “Please stay the night.” He didn’t want to be alone now – not after what had happened between them. Tired, Glorfindel’s eyes grew blank in sleep and he found peace in his dreams.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor was grateful that Glorfindel couldn’t see his face, for if they had been face to face, the blond would have seen the trail his tears had left down his face. /I do not want to lose you to death, Glorfindel./ But his nightmare had been more than a dream. It *had* been a glimpse of the future and he knew that no matter what he did, he *would* lose Glorfindel.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor never fell asleep that night, determined to savor Glorfindel’s closeness until the first ray of sun entered the bedroom.

 

Now, however, the time had come to leave, as he wanted to spare the blond any emotional scenes. Carefully, he loosened Glorfindel’s arms around him and regretted having to slip out of the protective embrace. He felt thankful that the other Elf didn’t wake and sat on the side of the bed for long moments, committing Glorfindel’s features to memory in case his dream had been true – foretelling the future.

 

“Please be careful, Glorfindel, and return to us,” he whispered in concern, love and dedication audible in his voice. He wanted to leave Glorfindel a memento, something that would remind the warrior of him in times of battle, but what? His gaze came to rest upon the ancient ring he was wearing; a family heirloom and highly treasured. It showed a firmly rooted tree, an ancient oak tree, the symbol of his house.

 

Erestor slid it off his finger and stared at it for long moments. His dying father had given it to him on the day they had fled Gondolin and the ring was very precious to him, but parting from it now seemed the right thing to do. Cautiously, he took hold of Glorfindel’s hand and slipped the ring down the ring finger. It fit perfectly.

 

Resting the hand back on Glorfindel’s flat abdomen, he leaned in closer for a last kiss. He claimed the bruised lips gently, stroked the long, flaxen hair and then rose from the bed. “I wish I could go with you to Helm’s Deep to keep you safe, but I am not an experienced warrior and I would only endanger you.” Also, Elrond wanted his Lord Councilor close in these dangerous times. “I will pray to the Valar in the hope that they will watch over you and keep you safe.” With pain in his heart, he got to his feet, wishing nothing more than being able to stay close to the blond and know him safe. “May the Valar keep you.”

 

Soundlessly, he made his way over to the door. From over his shoulder he looked at Glorfindel one last time and found him sound asleep. “I love you.” He quickly opened the door, stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him. His heart pounded madly and he fled to his own rooms whilst tears unashamedly made their way down his face.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel woke slowly, his body still humming pleasantly from last night’s sensual activity. Instinctively, he reached for Erestor, wanting to pull the other Elf close, but his eyes widened in shock, finding Erestor had left the bed. Startled he sat upright and scanned his rooms, but Erestor had gone and sadness descended onto his heart.

 

“Why? Why, Erestor?” Why had the dark-haired Elf come to him? Why had Erestor made such gentle, passionate love to him? Did the advisor love him? Or had he acted out of pity?

 

He sat upright, ran a hand through his tousled hair and sighed deeply. His hands came to rest idly in his lap and that was when he noticed the ring around his ring finger. He instantly recognized it, having seen it around Erestor’s finger for ages. A deep frown appeared on his brow, but then he accepted this last gift and gently ran a fingertip over the mithril. A token to remember Erestor by.

 

Tears pushed against his closed eyelids, but he forced them back. He was about to leave for Helm’s Deep and didn’t have the luxury or time to cry. He had to prepare himself for battle instead.

 

“Thank you, Erestor,” he whispered, honestly. “Thank you for this one night.” Hopefully the memory of their lovemaking would keep him going in the upcoming war.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond blinked. Erestor looked ‘normal’ – aloof, distant, even detached – but there was something in the dark eyes he had never seen before – a hint of tears. Had Erestor cried last night? Why? The healer took a step closer to his advisor and studied Erestor with concern. “Are you well, my friend?”

 

Erestor firmly nodded. “I am well.” But he felt like crumbling on the inside. The soldiers Imladris would dispatch to fight with their ‘Lorien brothers were already waiting, and only Glorfindel was still missing. Erestor didn’t delude himself into thinking that the Captain had changed his mind and would stay in Imladris. Glorfindel was probably wondering how to act when they said their final goodbyes.

 

Elrond’s eyes narrowed. “Erestor, what are you keeping from me?”

 

“I had a dream last night,” said Erestor, seeing no reason to hide this from his friend. “A nightmare, rather. I watched Glorfindel die at Helm’s Deep.”

 

Elrond sucked in his breath, thoroughly shocked. “I saw nothing of the kind.” But foresight came to the ones it chose and couldn’t be forced. “What else did you see?”

 

“Uruk-hai breaking through the Keep’s defenses.” Erestor’s eyes sought out Elrond’s. “May the Valar keep my dreams from becoming reality.”

 

Elrond was trying to accept what Erestor had told him just now. “We will lose Glorfindel?”

 

“To death, aye.” Erestor grew quiet then, as Glorfindel had finally appeared. Arwen, walking at Glorfindel’s side, was trying hard to act composed, but Erestor had known Arwen her entire life and easily read the signs that betrayed how upset she truly was.

 

“Adar!” Elladan stepped up to his father, fully armed and wearing armor. “We are ready to leave.”

 

Erestor knew how much effort it had taken the twins to convince Elrond to let them march for Helm’s Deep. Elrond had tried to forbid it, but the twins hadn’t taken their father’s no for an answer. Like Glorfindel, they felt they should fight alongside their brethren.

 

“Be careful, my sons,” said Elrond in an emotional voice. “Please come back to me.” He first bestowed a firm hug on Elladan and then on Elrohir when his youngest son opened his arms.

 

“We will, Adar. Do not worry about us.” Elladan and Elrohir spoke simultaneously.

 

And once more Erestor wondered about them. The twins were a spectacular sight to behold, having inherited Elrond’s features and his long, raven hair. For strangers it was impossible to tell them apart, and even he erred at times. They were fiercely loyal, brave and the best sons Elrond could have hoped for. Erestor comforted himself with the fact that these accomplished warriors would fight at Glorfindel’s side, covering each other’s backs. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the blond warrior stepping up to him. Glorfindel now stood in front of him and large, azure eyes questioningly fastened on him.

 

“Erestor?” Glorfindel determinedly took hold of Erestor’s right hand and held it tightly between his own. The mithril ring on his finger glittered in Arien’s light and reminded him of last night, giving him the courage he needed to proceed. Although Erestor’s eyes asked him not to address this, Glorfindel felt he didn’t have a choice. “Was it love? Or pity?”

 

“Glorfindel…” Erestor’s voice showed distress and he wished Glorfindel hadn’t asked that particular question. The blond Elf reassuringly rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, but Erestor still felt hesitant to address this. “You are about to march for Helm’s Deep. This is hardly the appropriate time to talk about this.”

 

Glorfindel shook his head. “If not now, then when? I might not survive Helm’s Deep, Erestor. Our chances of survival are small. Would you let me leave without knowing the truth? Would you be so cruel?”

 

Erestor swallowed convulsively. “I had so hoped that you would not do this.”

 

“Please tell me, Erestor. Tell me the truth.” Glorfindel ignored the questioning looks the four half-Elves were giving him. Right now, only Erestor’s answer mattered and he prayed to the Valar that the advisor hadn’t come to him out of pity last night.

 

Erestor knew he could only speak the truth and he nodded once. “I love you, Glorfindel. I have loved you for quite some time and I did not want you to ride into battle without having known you in that way.”

 

“I wish you had acted when you had first discovered those feelings,” said Glorfindel, feeling melancholy. “But I thank the Valar that you came to me last night. I will take those beautiful memories into battle with me.” Glorfindel pulled Erestor close, ignoring Elrond’s surprised gasp coming from behind him. These were the last precious moments he could share with Erestor and he wanted to make the best of them. “For I love you too, Erestor.”

 

Erestor’s eyes grew hooded with tears, but didn’t release them. Crying when saying goodbye wouldn’t do. He had to be strong now. “Come back to me, then.”

 

“I will, my beloved Erestor,” promised Glorfindel, who then proceeded to kiss the raven beauty. “And thank you for your gifts, Erestor.”

 

Erestor’s eyes brightened somewhat, seeing Glorfindel still wore his ring. “I wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

 

“I only need to close my eyes and see you – truly see, like you were last night, passionate and so alive.” Glorfindel caressed Erestor’s face and was deeply touched when the other Elf leaned in closer to savor the caress. “Will you wait for me?”

 

“I will,” vowed Erestor. “There never was another one, Glorfindel. You hold my heart for all eternity.”

 

The soldiers were growing restless and impatient, waiting for their leader, and Glorfindel realized he couldn’t draw this out any longer. It was time to say his goodbyes and mount Asfaloth. “Will you allow me one more token?” Erestor’s eyes asked so much and Glorfindel’s heart contracted with sweet pain, wishing they had revealed their feelings much earlier. “A lock of your hair?” Erestor nodded once and Glorfindel uncovered his dagger to carefully cut a lock from Erestor’s dark mane. He kissed the silken hair and then carefully slipped his treasure into a pocket.

 

“Go now,” said Erestor, realizing their parting would only become more painful the longer they lingered here. “And then come back to me again.”

 

“Aye, to you.” Glorfindel forced a smile onto his face. He drew in a deep breath, placed a last kiss on Erestor’s lips and then turned to join the soldiers. He mounted Asfaloth, and steered the stallion away from Erestor so he could take his rightful place at the head of the party. Lifting his hand in goodbye, he sought out Erestor’s dark, swimming eyes one last time, vowing to return to his beloved.

 

Erestor felt weak in the knees as a memory of last night’s nightmare came back to haunt him. Suddenly Elrond’s arm was wrapped around him in support, and as he looked at the half-Elf, he found the gray eyes swimming. His friend was also hurting, watching his beloved sons leave for Helm’s Deep and Erestor suddenly felt guilty for not consoling the healer. “They will return to us, my friend.”

 

“Have you foreseen that?” Elrond desperately wanted to know for certain that his heirs would return to him, but his foresight had revealed nothing to him.

 

“I have not seen their deaths,” said Erestor eventually, staring at the party which quickly grew smaller. “Take heart, my friend.”

 

“But you saw Glorfindel’s,” said Elrond, who now wrapped his other arm around Arwen. She stood close to him, trying hard not to cry. “Erestor… What happened between Glorfindel and you?” He had watched their bittersweet goodbye with much surprise.

 

“I told him I loved him,” admitted Erestor in a forced, calm voice. There was no need for Elrond to know what had transpired in Glorfindel’s rooms last night. “And he returns my feelings.”

 

“Oh, my friend, I am so sorry…” Elrond held both Elves close. Erestor allowed it, but reluctantly, whilst Arwen leaned against him for comfort.

 

“Even if he does not return to me, he will know how much I loved him,” said Erestor in a choked voice. “We should go inside now; there is much to be done.” He needed to occupy himself in order to take his mind off of Glorfindel.

 

Elrond thankfully understood, allowed the distraction, and guided both Elves into the Last Homely House.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The following weeks were nothing but torment for Erestor. All he could think of was Glorfindel and on several occasions he found himself standing in the blond’s office or quarters. In retrospect, he realized he had made things even more complicated for himself by going to Glorfindel that last night. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. Maybe he wouldn’t be hurting as much as he was now if he had managed to keep his distance that night. But, now he *did* have the memory of that one night in which they had made love. He just wished it didn’t hurt so much now.

 

On one of his prior visits he had taken an emerald-colored ribbon from Glorfindel’s dresser with him, which the warrior had worn in his hair in the past. He had kept it close ever since, uncovering it when he needed to feel some sort of connection to the blond.

 

At night, he folded it around his wrist or wove it into his raven hair. During the day, he kept it safe in the folds of his robes, and whenever he needed to touch it, he did. Glorfindel had asked him for a lock of his hair before departing for Helm’s Deep and now Erestor wished he had asked for a lock in return.

 

Shakily, he suddenly reached for his heart. A slicing pain moved through him and tears appeared in his eyes. Pure agony caused him to double over and he yelped softly – calling out Glorfindel’s name. Oh, what was happening to him? He was feeling someone else’s pain, but he didn’t possess such a strong connection with Glorfindel! So how could this be?

 

He closed his eyes in an effort to focus so he could battle the pain, but he began wheezing instead, fighting to draw in his next breath. A part of his mind, however, remained calm, and told him the Elven archers had long reached Helm’s Deep by now. Had the Evil One attacked the keep and was he sensing Glorfindel’s pain? But how was that possible?

 

Another scream – high-pitched and full of pain – left his lips and he wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to keep himself upright. He was about to tumble forward and hit the floor when the door unexpectedly opened and Elrond stormed inside.

 

“Erestor? What ails you?” Elrond sat down at Erestor’s side and enfolded the shaky advisor in his arms, offering all the support his friend needed.

 

Erestor shook violently and tasted the coppery tang of blood on his lips. Shocked, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, revealing blood-stained lips to him. “El… rond?” He was panicking and his wide eyes fastened on the healer. “What… is happening… to me?”

 

Realizing he needed to appear calm and in control, Elrond pressed Erestor close against him, holding him tight and offering the advisor, who felt icy cold beneath his touch, his body heat. “Did you bond with Glorfindel?”

 

Erestor shook his head. “Nay…” To his knowledge no bond had formed the night they had made love, but he couldn’t be completely certain. They had made *love*. It had been more than lust.

 

Elrond decided against moving Erestor to the healing wing just yet, judging it best that his friend stayed on the bed instead of moving him about. “Then ride it out.”

 

Fat tears of pain left Erestor’s panic-stricken eyes and he leaned heavily against Elrond. The pain intensified and he let out a keening wail. Next, everything turned dark around him and he collapsed against Elrond.

 

Thankfully Elrond already had a firm hold on Erestor and he held on tightly when his friend lost consciousness. “I am so sorry,” he whispered, knowing instinctively that Erestor’s nightmare had come true and that Glorfindel’s fëa had left for the Halls of Waiting. Rocking Erestor gently, he waited for the pain to find him as well, but when it didn’t come, he suspected his sons were alive and well. “Thank the Valar for that,” he whispered. His sons might be safe, but they had obviously lost Glorfindel.

 

“Adar? I heard a scream and…” Arwen’s eyes widened in concern, finding Erestor unconscious and with blood-stained lips. “What happened here?”

 

“Glorfindel… The battle at Helm’s Deep claimed his life,” said Elrond, melancholy. “I never knew Erestor and Glorfindel shared a bond, but apparently they do, and he experienced Glorfindel’s demise. We need to take Erestor to the healing wing where I can properly tend to him. Help me, Arwen.”

 

She was jolted into action, seeing Elrond struggle to his feet whilst gently maneuvering Erestor’s heavy form. Arwen assisted her father until Elrond had a firm hold on Erestor. The healer then lifted Erestor in his arms and carried him out of the room, preceded by Arwen, who opened the doors for him.

 

Concerned for Erestor’s health, Elrond searched his face, which was relaxed in a deep sleep. /I had no idea a bond connected them./ And Erestor’s reaction told him that the advisor hadn’t known either.

 

“Adar, here.” Arwen had opened the door to one of the smaller rooms located in the healing wing and pushed back the covers of the bed so her father could lay Erestor down. “I will fetch warm water and a wash cloth.”

 

“Bring hot water for tea and healing herbs as well,” instructed Elrond. He sat down on the side of the bed and loosened Erestor’s robes. “Erestor, I will take good care of you, I promise.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Arwen stood near the doorway and watched her father as he wiped the blood from Erestor’s lips. “Will he be well again?”

 

“I hope so.” Elrond placed the wash cloth aside and pulled the warm blanket up to Erestor’s shoulder. He had removed the formal robes, but had left the leggings and undershirt in place. “I do not know how Erestor will react upon awakening.”

 

“Did you say that…” Arwen wrung her hands in nervousness. “Did you say that he experienced Glorfindel’s death? Does that mean… Glorfindel, is he really…?” She didn’t dare speak the words.

 

“I am afraid so,” whispered Elrond, lowering his eyes in pain. “Glorfindel is dead. We lost him.”

 

“And… my brothers? What about them?” Arwen slowly approached the bed, and rested a hand gently on her father’s shoulder. “Do you sense them? Are they still alive?”

 

“I think so,” said Elrond eventually.

 

“They must be alive!” Learning that Glorfindel had died caused Arwen great pain, but she worried most about her brothers. Losing all three of them would be devastating and much too high a price. /Nay,/ she corrected herself, /Losing Glorfindel is too high a price to pay already./

 

“Someone should sit with Erestor at all times,” decreed Elrond. “I will sit with him for a few more hours. Relieve me when the morn comes.”

 

“I will.” Arwen soundlessly shuffled over to the doorway, mourning their loss and fervently hoping that Erestor would find a way to deal with Glorfindel’s death. She hadn’t realized they loved each other that profoundly!

 

Elrond stayed seated on the bed and took Erestor’s hand in his, softly rubbing the chilly flesh, determined to be at his friend’s side when the advisor regained consciousness. The healer in him knew how greatly Erestor would need him in the time to come.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor’s eyes still swam but didn’t release any tears. The blank stare was directed at the ceiling and Elrond occasionally managed to force a few droplets of herbal tea down his friend’s throat. Although he was thoroughly worried for Erestor’s well-being, he also realized that his friend was entitled to whatever time he needed to begin dealing with the loss.

 

Hours passed by and Arwen regularly relieved her father, sitting with Erestor and cradling his cool hand in between hers. She sang softly to him, hoping her voice had a calming effect on him.

 

Elrond had taken his turn at Erestor’s side once more and was coaxing the still Elf to drink some fresh water when the stare in the brown eyes broke and life returned to them. Involuntarily he held his breath, wondering what kind of emotional state Erestor was in. He didn’t know what to expect, screaming, sobbing, hysterics, but he was mentally prepared for whatever behavior Erestor would display. The calm that radiated from Erestor’s face however, took him aback, as it was the one reaction he hadn’t really anticipated. “Erestor?” Elrond moved from his chair onto the side of the bed and stroked long strands of raven hair away from Erestor’s face.

 

“It still hurts,” whispered Erestor, obviously in great pain, but desperately trying to control the raging emotions inside him. “It hurts here.” He pointed at the left side of his chest. “My heart hurts.”

 

Elrond briefly lowered his eyes, feeling lost for words, but then he drew from his strength and said, “Your heart will never feel whole again, my friend.”

 

Erestor’s gaze slowly shifted until it came to rest on the half-Elf, remembering that the Lord of Imladris had suffered the same fate in the past when Elrond had lost Ereinion and Celebrían. “How did you deal with it?” Vaguely he wondered how it was possible that he reacted this calmly, this controlled, but then again, he wasn’t one to give way to hysterics or drama.

 

Elrond delicately licked his lips. “It takes time, Erestor. The passing of time eases the pain, but the heartache never completely goes away. It is still a part of me, even today.”

 

Erestor pushed himself into an upright position and rested his back against the headboard of the bed. “Does the pain lessen with the passing of time?”

 

“It does – marginally,” said Elrond, honestly. “You will find a way to deal with it, Erestor, like I did.”

 

“I knew he was going to die in Helm’s Deep,” said Erestor in a puzzled voice, “And yet the impact is devastating.” He uncovered the emerald-colored ribbon from the folds of his midnight-blue robes and let his fingertips caress the silk. “It is hard to believe that I will never see him again – or hear his voice. I had hoped he would return to me. Such folly.” Erestor released a deep sigh. The pain was sharp and intense, but manageable. Long millennia of discipline allowed him to control it. “I would like to be alone for a few moments.”

 

“But of course.” Realizing that Erestor was fighting back his tears because he wanted to shed them in private, Elrond rose from the bed and headed for the doorway. “Call me whenever you have need for me.”

 

“I will,” promised Erestor, who felt relieved, hearing the door close behind Elrond. Tears, which he had refused to release in Elrond’s presence, now flowed down his cheeks. “Glorfindel, why did you leave me?” His vision had warned him and yet he had gone to the blond warrior to make love to him. He had no one to blame but himself for the sea of pain he was drowning in.

 

“What do I do now? How can I possibly continue without him?” Erestor closed his eyes, wiped away the tears, and rubbed the ribbon between his fingertips. Glorfindel would want him to go on, to live each day to the fullest, because that was how the warrior had lived his life. “But I do not want to be alone.”

 

He pressed his right hand against his chest, as if trying to calm his pounding heart. The pain that radiated from deep within his chest felt incredibly real, as if he had carried away an injury himself. And hadn’t he? Hadn’t he lost Glorfindel? The only Elf he had ever loved?

 

“Erestor? May I enter? Please?” Arwen hesitantly appeared in the doorway, uncertain if Erestor would allow her in. Her eyes were red from crying and her hands shook slightly. “Adar told me what happened – that we lost Glorfindel. I… I… I am so sorry, Erestor.”

 

Erestor instinctively opened his arms for her and she flung herself at him, burying him in a deep and intimate embrace. Erestor tucked her head beneath his chin and stroked the long hair. He had comforted her countless times in the past and it didn’t surprise him that she now came to him when he needed consoling. “We must remember the good times,” he said eventually. “We cannot give in to despair. He would not want that.”

 

“You are so much stronger than I am!” Arwen lifted her wet face and stared into Erestor’s eyes, seeing several teardrops leaving the brown orbs. “If I had lost Estel…” She wasn’t certain she would want to continue living, regardless of the fact that Estel would have wanted her to. “I will lend you all the strength you will ever need,” she vowed, passionately.

 

Erestor stroked her hair and smiled sorrowfully at her. “Thank you, Arwen.” How could he possibly reject this gift from the heart? His gaze shifted to the doorway when Elrond reappeared, looking worried and tired. “Elrond?”

 

Hearing his name, the half-Elf approached, and he allowed for a weak smile to surface on his face. He searched Erestor’s dark eyes, which had stopped spilling tears, and in its place an amazing strength had appeared. Elrond seated himself on the side of the bed and observed his daughter who was holding Erestor tightly. “How do you fare now, Erestor?”

 

“Glorfindel’s death still greatly pains me,” whispered Erestor; merely speaking the words caused the gaping wound in his heart to widen further. “But I will honor his memory and face the loss. He would not want me to fall prey to despair.”

 

Elrond claimed Erestor’s hand and softly rubbed the long fingers. Minute tremors that shook Erestor’s frame betrayed the other Elf’s upset state. “You are right, you know. Glorfindel would want you to carry on in the hope that you will find happiness again.”

 

Erestor swallowed convulsively, knowing very well that Elrond’s words were meant to comfort him, but how was he supposed to ever feel happy again? The light that had illuminated his life had gone out and it had left him feeling cold and naked.

 

“You are not alone,” said Arwen, gently. “You have Adar and me, and upon their return, Elladan and Elrohir will support you as well.”

 

Erestor smothered the sting of jealousy and hatred which flared at being reminded of the fact that the twins had survived whilst Glorfindel had died. He chided himself privately for his anger at their happiness, knowing very well that Elrond would have been shattered had he lost his sons. /I am stronger,/ he realized, surprised. /I will find a way to carry this pain with me for the rest of my life. I won’t fade because Glorfindel would not have allowed it. I will fight. I will survive./

 

Elrond read determination in Erestor’s eyes and felt grateful, realizing his friend would remain with the living and not leave them. His heart would have carried an even deeper wound if he had lost Erestor as well. “We are your family, Erestor.”

 

Erestor nodded once. Aye, they were his family, but they could never replace the lover he had lost.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Days passed by without meaning. Erestor returned to his duties in an attempt to dull his pain, but the hours crept by and the pain never really left him. Sometimes, he sought out the comfort of Glorfindel’s rooms, walking about and occasionally touching the warrior’s personal belongings. He was grateful that Elrond had decided to leave the rooms undisturbed; it meant he could come here whenever his heart called out to the warrior.

 

“I wish I could offer you more support and find ways to help you deal with this immense loss,” said Elrond, who stood in the doorway, watching his friend. Erestor hadn’t appeared for dinner and Elrond had instinctively known where he would find his elusive advisor. He covered the distance between them and opened his arms invitingly. Erestor only hesitated for one moment, and then moved into the embrace.

 

“I still sense his presence here,” said Erestor, sighing softly. “His very scent still lingers here and when I close my eyes I hear his voice and his sparkling laughter.”

 

“I know, Erestor, I know how much it hurts. I still hear Ereinion’s voice in my dreams.” Elrond rocked Erestor gently in his arms. “Your strength amazes me, my friend, and I can only hope it will never desert you.”

 

“Is there any news yet from Elladan and Elrohir?” Erestor forced himself to pull away and to make eye contact with the half-Elf.

 

“They are on their way home.” The One Ring had been destroyed and peace slowly returned to all Elven realms, but the price had been high. Hundreds of Elves had died at Helm’s Deep; among them the valiant Haldir of ‘Lorien. Elrond knew the sacrifice had been worth making, but losing Glorfindel had hit him the hardest. When Glorfindel had requested to join the marching Elves, he had allowed it, confident that the Captain would survive and return to them. In those days, he had never thought they could lose him. “And they bring Legolas with them.”

 

Erestor nodded once. “We should ready guest rooms for him then.” Arranging for this would take his mind off of Glorfindel and keep him busy.

 

Elrond caressed Erestor’s face. “I am not certain this is an appropriate offer to make, but if you would prefer to make these rooms your home I would make them available to you.” To his surprise, Erestor shook his head, slowly, but determinedly.

 

“Nay, I cannot dwell and drown in the past. If I bury myself in these rooms I will never emerge from them again. They would become my living tomb.”

 

“You are wise, Erestor,” replied Elrond, truly touched by Erestor’s words.

 

“Glorfindel would not want me to bury myself in here. He would tell me to venture outside and be with the ones I love.” A weak smile appeared on the advisor’s face. “And you do mean a lot to me, you and your children.”

 

“Never doubt you are loved, Erestor, and that you are a part of my family.” Elrond searched Erestor’s hooded eyes and then asked, “Would you like to stay here a little longer or join us in the Hall of Fire? You are missed.”

 

Erestor nodded once; regardless of where he was, he would always carry this pain, this loss with him and it mattered little if he was surrounded by his family or alone in Glorfindel’s rooms. “I will join you.”

 

Pleased, Elrond took hold of Erestor’s arm and guided his friend into the corridor. The healer knew only too well that it would take Erestor centuries, if not millennia, to work through the loss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Arwen scooted closer to Erestor, who was seated to her right, and reached for one of his hands beneath the table.

 

Mildly surprised, Erestor gently squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. He should have known that she needed him to be the strong one. She had always looked toward him for support and strength, ever since she had been a toddler, following him around. “I am coping,” he said, eventually, in an attempt to reassure her. He could clearly see the worry in her eyes when she looked at him. “Your presence helps.” Her eyes brightened at that.

 

“I am glad you joined us tonight. I do not want you to be alone or feel lonely.”

 

Elrond had overheard Arwen’s words and said, “Sometimes silence and solitude have a healing influence on us. We need to do whatever helps us to feel better.”

 

“Of course,” said Arwen, quickly. “I am merely worried.”

 

Erestor rubbed her fingers between his fingertips. /And for that, I love you, Arwen Undomiel./ She was the daughter he would never have and Arwen would always hold a special place in his heart.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor found himself seated on Glorfindel’s bed in the dead of night without any idea of how he had gotten there. Had he started to sleepwalk? He had never done so before. But he had never suffered from a broken heart either. He smoothed the silken sheets, which only bore a hint of the warrior’s scent nowadays. Several weeks had passed since he had sensed Glorfindel’s death and the twins and Legolas were scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Erestor had mixed feelings about greeting them.

 

Succumbing to exhaustion and temptation, Erestor lay down on the bed, rolling himself into the sheet. Erestor pulled the soft fabric close, closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, in search of Glorfindel’s scent. He missed his beloved terribly and his heart bled, but he managed to maintain a dignified façade when Elrond and Arwen were close.

 

Tomorrow, he would have to wage another battle to maintain his front. Elladan and Elrohir would return to Imladris, painfully reminding him of his loss. /I wonder if they witnessed Glorfindel’s death. If they saw him fall./

 

But tomorrow was tomorrow and he had to get through the night first. Closing his eyes in an effort to shut out his emotional pain he tried to fall asleep, failing miserably. His heart still hurt; the pain that had assaulted him on the day of Glorfindel’s death had never left him again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Brother? I do not know how to tell Erestor.” Elladan exchanged a worried look with his twin, also noticing Legolas’ concerned expression.

 

Elrohir sighed, deeply, and took in Imladris’ lovely silhouette displayed against the darkening sky. Arien was setting, but he was confident they would arrive at the Last Homely House within the next thirty minutes. “I do not know how either, but I trust we will find a way.”

 

Legolas, riding next to Elladan, caught the twin’s gaze. “Glorfindel fought bravely and his death was a tragedy. I hope Erestor will find a way to accept Glorfindel’s demise without fading himself.” He had met Erestor on several occasions and liked the Chief Advisor. Nonetheless, he had been surprised to learn that Erestor and Glorfindel had declared their love for each other on the day the Captain had left for Helm’s Deep. Somehow, he had never thought of them as lovers, as they were as different as night and day.

 

The three warriors rode in silence until they entered the courtyard. It was Elrohir who first noticed the welcoming party and greeted them. “Adar! Arwen!” His features briefly contorted, seeing the pained expression Erestor failed to hide. “And Erestor…” Oh, these next few minutes were going to be hard on all of them.

 

“My sons!” Unable to wait patiently for them to reach him, Elrond ran toward them.

 

Elladan and Elrohir quickly dismounted and whilst the elder of the twins hugged their father close, Elrohir embraced Arwen, who had come running toward them. “It is good to be home,” whispered Elrohir into his sister’s ear. But they wouldn’t remain in Imladris for long, as they would escort their sister to Minas Tirith where she would wed Estel and become the Queen of Gondor.

 

Whilst the twins were busy greeting their family, Legolas had dismounted and advanced on Erestor, carrying a large object which had been wrapped up in his riding cloak. He searched the large, dark eyes and saw the tears the advisor refused to shed. Acting on instinct, he grasped the other Elf’s forearm and held him close. During their journey home, the twins had worried about telling Erestor, and so Legolas had decided to perform this task himself. “Will you walk with me, Erestor? I have much to tell you.”

 

Realizing Legolas want to talk to him in private, Erestor accepted and nodded once. “Follow me into the gardens, then.” He exchanged a quick look of welcome with the twins and then guided Legolas toward the gardens. “It is good to know they survived and are home once more. His father greatly worried about them.”

 

“And I reckon you did too.” Legolas cast a quick look around the gardens and guided Erestor toward a magnificently carved bench. “Sit with me whilst we talk.” He carefully placed the object he had been carrying on the grass near his feet.

 

Erestor eagerly complied, as he already felt shaky, realizing he would shortly learn how Glorfindel had died. He seated himself next to Legolas and folded his hands in his lap. “Tell me then.”

 

Legolas turned toward Erestor and found the dark-haired Elf had lowered his eyes. “You loved Glorfindel and he returned those feelings.”

 

“I told him the morn he left for Helm’s Deep. Wish I had done so earlier.” Erestor shyly met Legolas’ gaze. “I wasted so much time. Time, which we could have spent in happiness instead.”

 

“We cannot change the past,” said Legolas, thoughtfully. “During the Quest I learned to accept that we have very little influence on the things that happen to us. At times I felt like a leaf, being blown in several directions, all at the same time. When we lost Mithrandir, I grieved, and I realized how quickly death can come for us immortals.”

 

Erestor clung to every word Legolas spoke and his eyes begged the Prince to tell him about Glorfindel.

 

“When Glorfindel joined us in Helm’s Deep he brought hope with him. Haldir and he fought valiantly, but I could save neither of them. Haldir was too far away from me and I could not reach him in time.” Legolas closed his eyes, reliving the moment a sword had cleaved Haldir’s back in two. “He was beautiful, that one. Beautiful and brave. So many died that night.”

 

“What about… Glorfindel?” Erestor wrung his hands, and valiantly fought back his tears. Did he really want to know how his beloved had died? Aye, he did. He needed to know.

 

“Glorfindel fought at the twins’ side, but sometime during the battle we were separated. His golden hair shone from a distance and we found courage in the fact that he was fighting in the front line, slaying so many of our enemies.” Legolas’ azure eyes opened and fastened on Erestor. “He fought so bravely, Erestor, and saved the lives of many.”

 

“How did he die?” Erestor pleadingly stared at Legolas. “What do you know?”

 

“I saw him fall from a distance. Neither the twins nor I were close at the time. It was madness, Erestor, and we had to fall back.” Legolas reached instinctively for Erestor, seeing the shoulders shake with emotion and he drew the raven-haired Elf in for a close embrace. “You must understand… We could not venture out for a while and once we did, the keep was covered with corpses. Théoden’s men collected the dead and they were placed upon a pyre. Men and Elves together. We did not have the time to sort them out and…”

 

Tears escaped Erestor’s eyes. “You were unable to give him a proper funeral?”

 

”I am afraid so.” Legolas took Erestor’s clammy hands in his and rubbed the trembling fingers. “But, I managed to rescue something for you.” He had to let go in order to reach for his traveling cloak. Peeling the fabric away, metal shone in Ithil’s silver beams.

 

Erestor recognized the object at once. “Glorfindel’s sword.” Reverently, his hands reached for it, and Legolas placed the sword across his lap so he could touch it. The truth hit him hard then; Glorfindel would never allow himself to be separated from his sword. “He is dead, then.”

 

Legolas was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? What words would offer Erestor comfort? “He fought bravely, Erestor, and saved many lives. Try to find comfort in that.”

 

Erestor angrily wiped at his tears, as he didn’t want to show his pain this openly. “Thank you, Legolas. Thank you for bringing me his sword.”

 

Legolas moistened his lips, uncertain how Erestor would receive his next words. “If you ever want to visit Helm’s Deep to pay Glorfindel your last respects, tell me and I will take you there.”

 

“Again, I need to offer you my thanks,” said Erestor, deeply touched. “But right now, I am… I am trying to accept… to cope with…” Words failed him then and he turned away from Legolas, not wanting to burden the Woodland Elf with his pain.

 

“There is no need to turn away from me. I have seen much pain these last few months and I do not want to see more of it. Please, do not lock me out when I am here to offer you comfort.” Legolas opened his arms and snaked them around Erestor’s shoulders, slowly pulling the other Elf close. “I cried when Mithrandir died, but I did it in solitude, thinking the others would not want to see my pain. But then Gimli came to me and took me into his arms. It was the strangest thing, allowing a Dwarf to comfort me, but we grew close that moment.” Erestor allowed the embrace and Legolas carefully pulled the other Elf close. “Do not turn me away when all I want to do is help.”

 

Incapable of speech, Erestor accepted Legolas’ offer and savored the other Elf’s closeness. “You have my eternal gratitude for telling me about his last moments and for returning his sword to me.”

 

“You are entitled to have his sword,” said Legolas, whispering into Erestor’s ear. “You were his beloved.”

 

“Only for one night and a morn,” whispered Erestor, saddened.

 

“I do not think so,” said Legolas, pulling away slightly so he could make eye contact with Erestor. “On the night before the battle we spoke, and when he told me about you, his eyes filled with love and dedication. His emotions were intense. You might have shared only one night in each other’s arms, but you loved each other for much longer.”

 

“He told you about that night?” Stunned, Erestor stared into Legolas’ sapphire eyes, which reminded him of his lost love.

 

“He did. He needed someone to talk to, and the twins were too focused on each other. Haldir and Estel had gone off to discuss tactics and I remained.” Legolas gently wiped away Erestor’s tears. “He loved you. He truly loved you.”

 

“If only he had not died.” Erestor, finally able to compose himself again, pulled away from Legolas. Tenderly, his fingertips caressed the tip of Glorfindel’s sword – his beloved’s legacy. “This is all I have left of him.” And he would keep the sword forever for it would remind him of a love found and lost.

 

TBC

July 2004


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erestor decides to visit Helm’s Deep to say his final goodbyes to Glorfindel and makes a startling discovery.

A Love Returned  
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel and Éomer/Legolas.

 

A Love Returned

Part 1

 

/I finally made it here. Helm’s Deep lies before me and my heart cringes at seeing the scattered remains of the ones who bravely fought here, defending the Keep. Although they tried to bury most bodies in one mass grave, they failed to collect all bones, and who can blame them? When this battle took place, chaos ruled.

 

Looking down, I stare at the stones, still sporting weak imprints of the blood that was spilled here. Legolas told me that this was where Haldir fell and I take a moment to remember this noble and valiant warrior. I thought I heard sorrow and remorse in Legolas’ voice, but I cannot be certain. Legolas has grown quiet and even private since we began this journey.

 

Several weeks ago I finally made up my mind. I had been staring at Glorfindel’s sword for hours and finally realized that I needed closure. I needed to come here and see for myself where Glorfindel had fallen. I needed to pay him my last respects, so I could forgive myself for not admitting I loved him earlier. If I only I had told him before that fateful night! We might have had some happy years if I had. But no, I had kept silent, and so had he.

 

Elrond had given me a shocked look at hearing I wanted to visit Helm’s Deep. For one moment he had stared at me in a fashion that suggested he believed I had finally succumbed to madness. But I had not. I had not felt that clear-headed since Glorfindel had passed away.

 

Traveling here took us several weeks. We also had to detour to Edoras because Elrond insisted Éomer was entitled to know we were passing into his land and heading for Helm’s Deep. The welcome had been friendly and warm and Éomer had offered to guide us. Legolas had first argued that it wasn’t necessary, as he was perfectly capable of finding the way, but Éomer had insisted.

 

Reluctantly, Legolas had eventually given in. Legolas’ reluctance to allow Éomer to be part of this undertaking surprised me somewhat. Legolas probably had his reasons for avoiding Éomer, but his motives eluded me. Éomer struck me as a brave and intelligent Man, although flawed by his mortality, of course.

 

I had asked them to wait for me in the courtyard, as I had wanted to enter the Keep alone. I needed this moment of privacy to sort out my feelings. Both Éomer and Legolas had appeared worried at my request, but had allowed it, knowing I had every right to say my goodbyes to my lost love.

 

Looking out over the grounds, I tried to imagine what it was like, being part of such a terrifying fight. Legolas hadn’t told me many details about the battles itself, and I hadn’t pushed him, seeing the memories had caused him pain. But I knew it had been raining heavily that night and thunder and lightning had greatly added to the ghostly atmosphere./

 

Slowly, Erestor made his way down to the spot which Legolas had pointed out to him. This was where Glorfindel had been seen last. This was the spot where his love had died.

 

Erestor managed to maintain his composure, knowing that Glorfindel wouldn’t want him to cave in and burst out in tears. The warrior’s passing, and his remembrance called for a more dignified and controlled goodbye.

 

Kneeling, he placed his fingers on the earth. The grass was still moist from the dew that had settled over the land during the morning and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to control his pain.

 

“I wish I had been here that dreadful night. Maybe I could have blocked that blow, or have taken it for you.” But he wasn’t a warrior like Glorfindel. Aye, he could hold his own if necessary, but lacked the necessary battle skills that had made Glorfindel such a valuable asset in this battle.

 

“I miss you, Glorfindel. Legolas brought back your sword… And the moment I saw it I realized I would never see you, talk, kiss, hold you or make love to you again. Your soul has returned to the Halls of Waiting and we will be reunited the day I die. But do not worry,” Erestor added with a slight chuckle. “I won’t take my life. I know you would not want me to do that. That is not the way of a warrior.”

 

Unsheathing Glorfindel’s sword, he reverently placed it upon the grass. “I should leave it where you released your last breath, but I am unwilling to part from it, as it was an essential part of you.” Having it near made him feel closer to Glorfindel. “I will go on, I guess. I will continue to serve Elrond and when the time comes to sail for Valinor, I will stand by his side. I won’t desert him.”

 

Smiling fondly, Erestor ran his fingertips down the blade. “Arwen and Estel were married the day before I left Gondor. They are happy.”

 

But he wasn’t. “Damn it, Glorfindel, how do you expect me to continue without you? Did you ever think of that when you allowed yourself to be slain? You defeated Balrogs and Fire Drakes, but could not stand your ground against Orcs and Uruk-hai?” Angry, he slammed his fist into the earth. Ouch, that hurt, and the pain reminded him of his resolve not to break down. “I will be strong for you.” But being strong was so damn hard!

 

Looking over his shoulder, he made out Legolas’ form in the distance. Éomer and Legolas had built a small fire and were waiting for him to return, but he wasn’t ready yet to return to them. They had made camp in the courtyard of the Keep, allowing him to wander off and he appreciated their thoughtfulness.

 

“What do I do now, Glorfindel?” Briefly, he felt like he had gone mad at last, speaking his thoughts aloud, almost expecting the warrior to answer him. “How do I go on without you?” The tears that he had been fighting back for weeks now escaped his eyes and he angrily wiped them away. “Why did you have to die?”

 

Unable to remain in this spot any longer, he sheathed his sword, rose from the ground and marched toward the woods. These trees had murdered and devoured the Orcs that had dared to flee there, but they had long grown peaceful again and they would never hurt him. 

 

Dwelling in their shade restored some of his peace of mind, but he remained restless. When he had first suggested visiting Helm’s Deep to Legolas, it had seemed a good idea, but now he wasn’t so certain any more. Why wasn’t the emotional pain lessening? His heart still felt like it was breaking apart!

 

Caving in, though he had vowed not to, he went down onto his knees, sobbing and softly calling out for Glorfindel. But his beloved was dead and would never return.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Do you think we should check on Erestor?” Éomer sat near the fire, and turned the rabbit they had caught earlier above the flames. He worried about the dark-haired Elf with the large, sad eyes.

 

Legolas shook his head once. “Nay, he needs his privacy.” Realizing Erestor’s façade might be crumbling right now, he wanted the advisor to have all the privacy he could wish for. Erestor would feel ashamed if they saw his despair. “He will return to us in time.”

 

Éomer shivered against the cold and pulled his cloak tighter around his body. “I don’t like being back here. The ghosts of the dead still linger here.” He felt haunted, paranoid even, remembering how many had fallen here. Boys, old men, and warriors alike.

 

“Then why did you insist on escorting us?” Legolas, who had been watching Erestor as he disappeared between the trees, now turned to look at the King.

 

Éomer shrugged his shoulders once, feeling much too old and tired for his age. “I couldn’t let you travel here alone, not knowing what you would find. I still haven’t had the time to restore the Keep to its former state and not all the dead have been buried yet. I didn’t want you to face this horrific sight alone.”

 

Legolas’ eyes narrowed. “You are concerned for us?”

 

“Aye.” Éomer nodded and averted his eyes, not wanting to see the expression in Legolas’ blue ones when he spoke next. “I know you lost many fellows and, even more importantly, a dear friend.” He had watched Legolas closely when they had buried the dead and had seen the shock and pain in the azure eyes upon tending to Haldir’s corpse. “And I also worry about him.” Éomer inclined his head in the direction Erestor had left in. “I saw the anguish in his eyes when he stood before me in the Golden Hall of Meduseld, requesting permission to cross my lands.”

 

Legolas’ eyes remained emotionless, but Éomer’s observational skills impressed him. “Erestor lost his mate. Glorfindel and he were lovers.”

 

Éomer sucked in a deep breath and took the plunge into the deep. “And how about you, Legolas? Did you lose a lover at Helm’s Deep as well?”

 

Legolas’ eyes narrowed further, revealing disbelief that Éomer had asked such a question. “What makes you say such a thing?”

 

“I was wondering about Haldir.” Éomer finally looked Legolas in the eye. “I saw the expression in your eyes when you held him in your arms and sang that last lament.”

 

“He was a good friend,” choked Legolas out, his voice raw and unforgiving.

 

“It is none of my business, of course,” soothed Éomer, “But this is the very reason why I wanted to accompany you on your journey. Erestor already grieves over Glorfindel and you… I wanted to make certain that no one else died on these fields – and certainly not another Elf.”

 

Legolas’ eyes flared. “Did you just say what I thought you said?”

 

“Sometimes, when we lose a loved one, we stop thinking rationally. Taking your life might seem like a solution, but it isn’t.” Éomer slowly rose from the ground and stood in front of the Woodland Elf. “I don’t know you very well, Legolas, but we fought side by side in the past. I feel a duty – an obligation – to do everything that I can to see the hurt healed.”

 

Legolas’ anger, which had flared brightly a moment ago, now dwindled. “I thank you for your concern, but do not worry. Neither Erestor, nor I will end our lives.”

 

“Are you certain about Erestor? Have you seen the longing in his eyes?”

 

“Longing?”

 

“Aye, he longs to be reunited with Glorfindel.”

 

/For a mere Man you are awfully observant,/ thought Legolas. Had he misjudged the Man in the past? He respected Éomer as a warrior, but realized he didn’t really know the person behind the warrior. The wind played with Éomer’s bronze curls and the tanned face looked kindly at him. There had been a spark of interest and attraction when they had first met, and he vividly remembered aiming an arrow at the Man. He had felt it back then – the tightening of his groin, the desire to bury his fingers in the wild mane – but he had held back, knowing pursuing a love interest was impossible in times of war. But the war had ended and he was still trying hard to keep his distance and not to get entangled in a web of love and attraction. He wasn’t ready yet to take such a step.

 

“Erestor will never take his life,” Legolas said eventually. “He knows Glorfindel would condemn such an act.” After pausing, he added, “You were right, Éomer. I cared about Haldir, but we were never lovers. He hails from the Golden Wood, whilst I call Mirkwood home. We were distances apart. But… There was a mild attraction and when he died…” Legolas swallowed, convulsively. “I did not want to return here either, but now that I am here I believe Erestor made the right decision. We need to let go, Éomer. We all do. We witnessed unspeakable horrors that night and we have to let the memories go. An age of peace has begun and we need to change with it.” *He* needed to change as well. Back at Edoras, he had desperately tried to keep Éomer from joining them on this quest, afraid his desire would flare again. And it had. The attraction was still there and he didn’t know how to act on it.

 

Éomer smiled, encouragingly. “Taking such a step demands a lot of courage.”

 

It was definitely time to change their subject, as Legolas wasn’t inclined to discuss Haldir or personal matters further at this point. “You are a King now,” said Legolas, smiling sorrowfully, realizing only too well that Éomer had suffered a great loss when Théoden had died. “And you have become a good ruler.” He recalled the self-doubt Éomer had failed to hide when he had been proclaimed King. For some reason the Man had been convinced he wouldn’t make a good ruler, but his subjects loved him.

 

“I try my best,” said Éomer, fighting a blush at hearing such praise. Maybe he had a chance to win Legolas’ heart after all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Oh, he didn’t want to do this! Angrily, Erestor wiped at his tears and pushed stray strands of hair behind his ears. He had wanted to be strong for Glorfindel and instead he had broken down! Drawing in a deep breath, he buried his fingers in the earth, trying to find something that would calm him down and give him the strength he needed to return to his companions. 

 

Erestor began to rise from the forest ground, but then something hard collided with him and knocked him off his feet. Erestor didn’t have the time to panic as a sliding pain washed over him; only now did he realize that he had been flung through the air, and the back of his head had made contact with the hard trunk of an old oak tree. Whilst growing unconscious, he managed to catch a glimpse of long, dirty hair and shredded clothes. Everything then became dark around him as he slid into unconsciousness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

What was this strange creature doing here? He had never seen him here before and he smelled alien as well. Crouching cautiously near the strange being, he stuck out a foot and prodded the now still body. When no motion was forthcoming, he grew slightly bolder and extended an arm, pushing the stranger further away from him. This being was an intruder and presented a danger to him, so he had to deal with this threat. Ignoring the pain that cut through his chest and head, he grabbed hold of the intruder’s clothes and began to pull him toward his hide-away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I no longer see Erestor,” said Legolas, concerned for his friend’s well-being. “I lost track of him after he entered the forest.” He had sought out a higher point and now methodically scanned their surroundings.

 

“Can you still hear him?” Éomer came to a halt next to Legolas. The Elf’s enhanced senses would certainly lead them to the elusive advisor.

 

“The trees are whispering,” muttered Legolas, absentmindedly. “And I cannot make much sense of their murmurs.”

 

“There is no sign of Erestor then? How can that be?” Éomer opted for action and descended the stairs, walking toward that part of the forest in which Erestor had been last seen. 

 

“The only thing I can think of is that he is hiding from us. But why would he do that?” Legolas followed Éomer, and found himself smiling at the way the wild curls moved against Éomer’s shoulder. For a mortal, Éomer was extraordinary attractive. 

 

“We must search for him,” decided Éomer. “Too many Elves already found their deaths here.” Accusingly, he glared at Legolas. “You said he didn’t plan on taking his own life.”

 

“He never would,” said Legolas, steadfast. “Erestor is stronger than that. Something else must have happened.”

 

“These woods are safe,” said Éomer, still convinced Erestor had suicide thoughts.

 

“Maybe… Maybe not.” The trees continued to whisper, but Legolas was too worried and distracted to concentrate on what they were saying.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

What should he do? Tie the intruder up? But he didn’t have any rope and his clothes were already too shredded to use as restraints. Sitting on his heels, he studied the strange being. The long, ebony hair obscured the intruder’s features, and growing curious, he lifted part of the dark mane. He startled, finding chocolate, brown eyes staring back at him. For one moment he thought the stranger was awake, but the breathing was still too deep and slow for the intruder to be faking his condition. His prey was still unconscious.

 

Nervous, and fighting down a growing panic, he bit his fingernails, trying to come up with a solution. Did the stranger mean him harm, or not? It wasn’t the first being he had seen since he dwelt here, but he had never before been so close to one of them.

 

For moons now had he lived in this forest. He survived on berries, nuts, and occasionally he managed to catch a rabbit, which he ate raw as he had no means of creating a fire. As a result, he had grown thin, pale and very dirty. He had no recollection of his former life and only knew this existence.

 

Cautiously, he pressed a fingertip into the intruder’s abdomen, feeling the stranger breath. The heavy fabric of the riding cloak felt warm and he envied the stranger for possessing it. It could grow cold in the woods during the night. Maybe he should just take it? But no, then the other being would be cold.

 

Unexpectedly, a groan escaped his prisoner’s lips and he curled his fingers tightly around a large and heavy branch, ready to defend himself if necessary.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Oh, what had just happened? And why did his head hurt? The memories returned in a rush and Erestor remembered being thrown off of his feet and being sent against a tree. Blinking once, he tried to focus his gaze, but a sliding pain erupted from behind his temples.

 

The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer beneath the open sky. He was looking up at some sort of ceiling and realized he had probably been dragged into some sort of cave. Groaning in pain, he tried to push himself into a sitting position, but violent growls coming from his right made him reconsider and he remained immobile instead. Of course, someone had knocked him off of his feet; but who? And why?

 

Another aggressive growl sounded from his captor, and he slowly turned his head to look at him. Who had abducted him? An Orc or Uruk-hai, who had survived?

 

His heart missed a beat, finding someone crouching next to him, holding a large and potentially dangerous branch in a very dirty hand. Hand, not a claw. So he ruled out the possibility of having been abducted by an Orc of Uruk-hai. Was it a human then?

 

“Peace,” he said softly, extending his hands, palms turned upward toward his captor. “I mean you no harm.” He got another look at his abductor and realized there was lots of dried blood and dirt in the matted hair. His eyes narrowed, taking in the origin of the clothes his captor was wearing; definitely Elven made. Could it be an Elf? Or a Man who had come upon a corpse and had robbed it of its clothes? Erestor couldn’t rule that out either.

 

Another growl sounded, but softer this time and the branch swayed precariously, as if keeping it up high was paining his captor. “Are you injured? I am no healer, but maybe I can help?” Erestor didn’t know what urged him to reach out to this being, but he did.

 

An angry hiss, a violent growl, and his captor lost his balance, tumbling backward. His attacker quickly lifted the branch once more in order to defend himself and from behind the curtain of dirty hair a pair of unfocused eyes blinked uncertainly at Erestor. “I mean you no harm,” Erestor repeated in a gentle tone. “I want to help.” Keeping his hands, palms upwards toward his attacker , Erestor crept closer, cursing the fact that the cave was too low to stand.

 

Now that Erestor was fully conscious and alert again he could literally smell the fear on his abductor. For some reason he terrified his attacker! “I am a friend.” But his words had little to no effect as his captor tried to crawl away from him. But his attacker’s back was already against the wall of the cave and the cornered abductor had no way left to go. “I won’t hurt you. It looks as if you have been hurt in the past though. Maybe I can help?” Extending his hand farther, Erestor tried to curl his fingers around his attacker’s wrist, but his captor pulled away, emitting soft noises, which clearly showed distress.

 

Then, after another fruitless attempt, Erestor finally managed to get a hold on his captor’s wrist. His attacker tried to twist away, but failed. “I just want to help.” But the words didn’t seem to register with his captor. “You can trust me.” Erestor ran his thumb soothingly over the inside of his attacker’s wrist and now reached forward, catching another hand in his.

 

His attacker tried to squirm away from him, but Erestor didn’t allow it. Erestor finally had a tight hold on his attacker’s hands and rubbed them in what was hopefully a reassuring manner. But then Erestor’s breath caught. Beneath the dirt, he found his captor was wearing a ring. A ring, which was awfully familiar to him. Erestor used his nail to clean off the dirt and then released his attacker’s hand in shock. His eyes widened, as he had recognized the family heirloom which he had given Glorfindel that morn before the Captain had left.

 

“Nay, this cannot be!” This wretched creature must have found Glorfindel’s corpse and had then taken possession of the ring!

 

Panic stared back at Erestor from the depths of those unfocused eyes. Blue eyes, he registered with a shock! Could that be? No, Glorfindel was dead! Legolas had returned the warrior’s sword to him! Glorfindel couldn’t be alive! It was impossible!

 

“I need to know for certain!” Paying his captor’s distress and growing terror little heed, Erestor grabbed him hard and pulled him into the weak sunlight that made it inside the cave. Resolutely, Erestor brushed the dirty mane away from the face. His heart thundered madly in his chest, as he definitely recognized the face, the eyes, and the scent buried beneath the blood and dirt. “It cannot be you!”

 

But it was… It was Glorfindel.


	3. Chapter 3

A Love Returned

Part 2

 

“Nay, it cannot be you!” Erestor lost control and shook Glorfindel firmly; all the while the warrior’s big blue, frightened eyes continued to widen. Glorfindel no longer tried to get away and helplessly let Erestor manhandle him. /Oh no, what am I doing? Why can’t I stop shaking him? I am obviously scaring him!/ Then, unexpectedly, Glorfindel fainted and Erestor caught him. Erestor was shocked to find just how little Glorfindel weighed and how easily he could lift the injured Elf in his arms.

 

In the name of the Valar, what had happened to Glorfindel? Now that the blond was unconscious, Erestor had a first chance to examine him. Erestor carefully placed Glorfindel on the ground and checked him for injuries. Erestor found many – too many – but the most prominent one had been a blow to the warrior’s chest. When that terrible pain had overwhelmed him that faithful night in Imladris, he had assumed his heart had been breaking because Glorfindel had died, but now Erestor finally understood. He had felt Glorfindel’s physical pain, as the warrior had been mortally wounded. That the Captain had survived was nothing short of a miracle.

 

Next, Erestor’s hands moved to Glorfindel’s face and his fingertips easily identified the scars and still healing gashes located near the warrior’s right ear and temple. Glorfindel had taken several blows, and yet, he had survived.

 

A part of Erestor was still unable to believe that he had really found Glorfindel – *his* Glorfindel – whilst everyone had thought him dead. Glorfindel was alive! Wounded and obviously in a bad shape, but alive. Erestor was convinced that with some tender loving care Glorfindel would be back on his feet again in no time. The advisor would look after Glorfindel and take care of his beloved.

 

Lifting Glorfindel in his arms once more, Erestor cradled him tightly against his chest. He carried his precious charge outside and now that Arien’s light surrounded them, he saw the real damage done to the once beautiful face. The features were sunken now, the eyes had dark circles beneath them and blood, dried as well as fresh, clung to the once golden hair.

 

Oh, sweet Elbereth! Glorfindel had somehow survived that night’s slaughter and had managed to stay alive whilst wandering the woods. From the way Glorfindel had acted, Erestor gathered that the warrior had no idea who he was and why he was here. Oh, by the Valar, just how serious were Glorfindel’s injuries?

 

Erestor decided to carry him over to Legolas and Éomer, and after mounting their horses they would leave for Gondor… No, not Gondor! Glorfindel would never be able to deal with the crowd assembled there. In his current state, Glorfindel needed peace and quiet. To Imladris then! The twins still resided there, as they were about to make their final choices; whether to belong to the Firstborn or to the race of Man. Like their father, they were accomplished healers and they could help Glorfindel during his recovery process.

 

“I have you now, Glorfindel, and I will never fail you again.” Oh, if only he had come here earlier! Why had he waited all those weeks? He should have left the moment the roads had been safe!

 

“Stop it!” Erestor mumbled the words in an angry voice, and they were directed at himself. Drowning in self-hate, or self-reproach, wouldn’t aid Glorfindel’s recovery!

 

Looking at the haggard and bruised face, Erestor’s heart missed a beat, finding the azure eyes had closed. Just how exhausted and how badly injured was his beloved Glorfindel? And why hadn’t he paid more attention when Elrond had demonstrated his healing skills in the past?

 

“Erestor!” Legolas spotted Erestor first and gestured for Éomer to follow him. The fact that Erestor was carrying something or someone intrigued him. What had happened?

 

Éomer followed, and as the two Elves weren’t paying their surroundings much attention, he kept a close eye on them, just in case danger was near. Although Orcs and Uruk-hai no longer dwelt in these parts, wild animals still presented a danger.

 

Legolas’ voice rang clearly through the forest and Erestor quickly walked toward the Woodland Elf. “Legolas! I found him! He is alive! It is Glorfindel!”

 

Éomer and Legolas exchanged a concerned look; both of them were worried that Erestor had lost touch with reality.

 

Concerned for the other Elf’s well-being, Legolas proceeded cautiously. “How can it be Glorfindel? He died, Erestor.”

 

So Legolas needed convincing? He could do that! “Then look for yourself!” Erestor had reached the two warriors and now stood in such a manner that Legolas and Éomer could look at Glorfindel’s face.

 

Legolas brushed the dirty hair away from the face and then hissed sharply. “He bears some resemblance to Glorfindel. It is hard to tell, with all that grime covering his face.” His gaze was drawn toward the pointed ears and he realized that Erestor had found an Elf who must have survived the massacre months ago. But was it Glorfindel? He was afraid to give Erestor hope when maybe there was none.

 

Erestor smiled, victoriously. “Glorfindel acted strangely; he did not recognize me and I am afraid a serious head injury is to blame for that. We need to make camp, built a fire and check him over thoroughly. We also need food and water.”

 

Éomer nodded once. “Follow me. I know a good place to make camp, and it is located near a stream, which will supply us with fresh water.” It mattered little to the Rohan King if the Elf was Glorfindel or not; what mattered was that someone needed help.

 

Erestor felt thankful that the Man so easily accepted this unexpected development. Legolas moved toward him, obviously offering to take Glorfindel from him, but Erestor refused and firmly shook his head. “He is mine to care for, Legolas.” Only a few hours ago he had tried to accept Glorfindel’s death and now he was holding the blond warrior in his arms. He would watch over his love as long as he lived.

 

Legolas sighed and allowed Erestor to carry the injured Elf. “Are you certain it is Glorfindel? But how can that be? I saw him fall!” The Elf *did* bear an uncanny resemblance to the blond Captain. And if Erestor said it was Glorfindel, who was he to argue?

 

“I do not know the answer to that question, but I do know we need to keep him warm and fed. He feels icy cold beneath my fingers.” Erestor pulled Glorfindel tighter toward him, still distressed that he could so easily carry the warrior.

 

Glorfindel remained unconscious whilst Legolas made camp and built another fire. Éomer returned from his hunt with a handful of rabbits and water skins filled with fresh water. The Man spread his bedroll on the ground near the fire and gestured for Erestor to place Glorfindel on top of the fabric, as it would keep the cold, rising from the earth, from chilling Glorfindel farther. Next, Éomer removed his riding cloak and covered Glorfindel with it.

 

“Thank you,” Erestor said, deeply touched that Éomer looked after Glorfindel in such a caring way.

 

Éomer blushed, weakly, and then left, affording them some privacy. Legolas and Éomer busied themselves cleaning and roasting the rabbits, whilst Erestor examined Glorfindel’s injuries more closely. The blows that had been delivered to the blond’s head worried the advisor the most and also explained Glorfindel’s strange behavior. Erestor’s fingers moved down Glorfindel’s naked chest, which used to be broad and muscular, but now looked wasted. A blunt object had speared the warrior’s chest and *this* had been the pain he had felt that night. Glorfindel had never died. But because of the severe pain Erestor had simply assumed he had experienced the warrior’s death! He had made a grave mistake!

 

“How bad is he?”

 

Éomer sat on his heels opposite Erestor and handed the advisor a water skin. Erestor exchanged a look with the Man and then allowed for a few droplets of precious water to drip onto Glorfindel’s bruised lips. “I am no healer,” Erestor said eventually. “And I cannot properly care for him. I am afraid he has suffered extensive injuries to his head. It explains why he did not recognize me… He did not speak to me either.”

 

Legolas joined them, and in the sky-blue eyes, Erestor read concern.

 

“But we cannot lose hope, Erestor. You said yourself; Glorfindel is alive!” Legolas finally allowed himself to believe that this was Glorfindel. Oh, he wanted to believe that the fabled Captain had returned to them so much!

 

And Erestor clung to that truth! Glorfindel was alive and in his arms. He would never let his love go again! Glorfindel was his for all eternity!

 

“Shouldn’t we wake him?” asked Éomer. “He should eat something.” Éomer removed the meat from the rabbit’s bones and put it into a bowl.

 

“I do not know how he will react once he wakes up,” Erestor said, honestly concerned. “I do not want him to panic and run away.”

 

“Then we have to make certain he cannot run away,” said Legolas. “Try waking him. We will be careful.”

 

Deep down in his heart, Erestor felt scared. How would Glorfindel react upon seeing him? Would the Captain finally recognize him? Or not? In the end, Erestor realized he didn’t really have a choice. In his kindest voice, he whispered, “Glorfindel? My love? Wake up for me. You need to eat and drink. You are much too thin.” Involuntarily, Erestor held his breath when the big, blue eyes finally opened.

 

Glorfindel panicked, finding himself surrounded by strangers. There were three of them and he began to squirm, trying to put more distance between him and the intruders. He was greatly outmatched and in his weakened state his only hope for survival lay in flight.

 

“Oh, Glorfindel, please be at ease. We mean you no harm!” Erestor’s heart broke all over again, finding Glorfindel was struggling to get away from him. “I love you!”

 

Glorfindel stared at the dark-haired Elf. Why would a stranger say such a thing? Was this a trick? But what kind of trick?

 

“Your name is Glorfindel and mine is Erestor.” The advisor saw the panic and terror in the azure eyes and instinctively knew he had to soothe Glorfindel. So he addressed the frightened Elf in the same voice he had used when Elrond’s children had been little. The twins and Arwen had always responded to it by calming down. “I am your friend. And so are Legolas and Éomer.”

 

Glorfindel’s eyes shifted from Erestor to Éomer and eventually to Legolas. He knew their names now, but they remained strangers to him; strangers, who he didn’t trust. They could easily overpower and hurt him!

 

Erestor swallowed, hard, and managed to control his raging emotions. He couldn’t afford to lose his control again like he had in the cave when he had resorted to shaking the injured Elf. “Calm down… And when you feel comfortable around us, please eat and drink something.”

 

Glorfindel stared at the bowl, filled with meat, and his stomach growled, hungrily. It had been days since he had eaten last!

 

Erestor’s heart contracted, reading the raw hunger in his beloved’s eyes. “Please, eat.” He offered Glorfindel the bowl, which the blond grabbed roughly from his hands.

 

Glorfindel then proceeded to devour the meat whilst keeping a close eye on them. He was ready to break away at the first sign of danger.

 

“Legolas? Would you pour some water, please?”

 

The Woodland Elf handed Erestor a mug filled with the precious liquid and the advisor in turn handed it to Glorfindel. “Drink.”

 

Glorfindel literally grabbed it from his hands and gulped the water down. There was panic still in his eyes, but it was slowly subsiding.

 

“Eat some more. We have plenty.” Éomer filled the empty bowl and offered it to Glorfindel once more. The Elf’s poor state worried him.

 

Glorfindel attacked the food like his very life depended on it.

 

“Erestor? We should spend the night here. He is in no condition to travel right now.”

 

Erestor agreed with Legolas; Glorfindel needed rest. “Aye, we will stay here tonight. But we will leave for Imladris tomorrow.”

 

“Imladris?” Éomer raised an eyebrow, questioningly. “Why Imladris? Why not head for Minas Tirith?”

 

“Because Glorfindel will feel intimidated when confronted with such a large gathering of people. Imladris is empty, save for Elladan and Elrohir. He will be more comfortable there.” All the while, Glorfindel continued to look at him. The blond was studying him and was probably trying to figure out if they presented a danger to him or not. “You have no memory of me, do you?”

 

Glorfindel’s eyes mirrored his confusion at hearing Erestor’s question. In the end, he simply stared questioningly at the dark-haired Elf.

 

Erestor gently gathered Glorfindel’s hands in his and rubbed the ring with his thumb. “I gave you this on the morn you left for Helm’s Deep.” More confusion shone right back at him and he added, “I love you, Glorfindel. That is why you are safe with me. With us. We care about you.”

 

Glorfindel’s gaze shifted away from Erestor and over to Legolas and then to Éomer. Erestor instinctively knew Glorfindel was trying hard to remember, but there was no recognition in the blue eyes. “Give it time,” Erestor advised.

 

Shivers coursed through Glorfindel’s body and his bruised lips were slowly turning mildly blue. Elrond had once told him that recovering Elves were susceptible to the cold and Erestor added his riding cloak to Éomer’s, hoping it would help keep Glorfindel warm. He desperately wanted to take his lover into his arms and to warm him that way, but the advisor knew it was much too soon for that. Glorfindel needed to remember first and the blond needed to learn he could trust him.

 

Glorfindel yawned and his eyes began to close once more. He had grown sleepy now that he had eaten his fill.

 

“You are obviously tired, my love, and there is no need for you to stay awake. Legolas, Éomer and I will stand guard. No one will ever hurt you again; that, I promise.” Glorfindel’s expression spoke of confusion, but also of hope, which encouraged Erestor. “Please go to sleep now.” Did Glorfindel trust him enough to go to sleep?

 

Glorfindel all too soon lost his struggle to remain awake and his eyes closed fully. Erestor tucked the riding cloaks closely around the injured Elf’s form and soothed back the dirty hair. He felt somewhat relieved now that his lover had drifted off into a healing sleep. Erestor removed Glorfindel’s sword from the scabbard and reverently placed it next to him on the grass. “I will keep you safe.”

 

Legolas nodded; the Prince understood that Glorfindel was Erestor’s charge, and neither he, nor Éomer, would try to take that away from the advisor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel didn’t understand what was happening to him. Last night, he had been hiding in his shelter and he had felt secure there, but then this dark-haired Elf called Erestor had upended his life. Now, he was seated high upon a horse, with this dark-haired stranger sitting behind him – steadying him as he swayed. The stranger had said that his name was Erestor and that they were lovers. Glorfindel had no recollection of that whatsoever. Apparently, the ring he was wearing had been a gift from Erestor to him, but he had no memory of that either. Did he believe Erestor? Strangely enough, he did.

 

When he had tackled Erestor in the woods, he had been trying to protect himself. He didn’t know how he had contracted these injuries in the first place, and he had been determined to keep himself from adding more to them. He was already hurting enough.

 

In front of him rode the other two strangers. Erestor had told him that their names were Éomer and Legolas, and for some elusive reason Glorfindel felt like he should know them, but he didn’t. He didn’t even remember his own name! He simply had to believe that Erestor was telling him the truth and that he was really called Glorfindel! Oh, all these racing thoughts worsened his pounding headache and he bit his bottom lip, trying hard to hide the pain he was in.

 

“We can stop and rest for a while if you want to.” Erestor was more worried than he wanted Glorfindel to know. The blond had tensed against him and Glorfindel’s head lolled against his shoulder.

 

Cautiously, Glorfindel looked at Erestor from over his shoulder. Erestor was handsome, even in his poor state he could acknowledge and appreciate such ethereal beauty. The long, raven hair easily reached Erestor’s waist, and the dark eyes resembled pools of still water. Erestor definitely cared about him – had even said he loved him, but Glorfindel simply didn’t remember the ebony beauty. And he could tell that this fact was hurting Erestor in turn. It would be nice though, having a lover and friends. He liked that idea very much.

 

“Do you wish for us to stop?” Erestor repeated his question; his worry increased, seeing the odd look Glorfindel was giving him.

 

“No…” Glorfindel cringed at the way his voice sounded; raw and hoarse. He hadn’t spoken for quite some time as there had been no use for words whilst he had dwelt in the forest.

 

“Are you certain?” Erestor wanted Glorfindel to rest, but was hesitant to force the blond to do so. He wanted Glorfindel to have some measure of control over his current situation.

 

This time, Glorfindel nodded. For some reason he had decided to put his trust in this Elf called Erestor and now he had to follow through.

 

“It will take us several weeks to journey to Imladris, but maybe that once we are there the surroundings will help bring back your memories.” Oh, Erestor fervently hoped so! He wanted to kiss Glorfindel, to lay him down and make love to him, but he couldn’t and that was sheer torment!

 

There was pain and longing in Erestor’s voice and when Glorfindel looked him, he saw those emotions also reflected in the dark eyes. Erestor was trying to act composed, but Glorfindel sensed the agony beneath the exterior. Erestor truly loved him; he read that truth in those brown eyes! But the question was, had he loved Erestor back in the past? Because, if he had, how could he have possibly forgotten his beloved?

 

“You suffered several blows to the head,” explained Erestor in a patient voice. “And one to the chest, but I am confident you will grow strong once more. Elladan and Elrohir will help you heal.”

 

Those names sounded familiar, but Glorfindel failed to assign faces to them. “El… la…dan?”

 

“Aye, Elladan!” Erestor smiled, happily. “Do you remember him?”

 

Glorfindel hated disappointing the dark-haired Elf. “No… I… do not…” He could tell by the expression in the dark eyes that Erestor had hoped he had remembered. “Who… are… they?” Erestor handed him the water skin and Glorfindel drank his fill.

 

“Elladan and Elrohir were your students once. You trained them.”

 

He had? Glorfindel had so many questions for Erestor, but was too tired to ask them right now. He had to pace himself. “Where… are… we… going?”

 

“Imladris; the Last Homely Home. *Our* home.”

 

Something in Erestor’s voice moved Glorfindel and he sought out the almond-shaped eyes. To his surprise Glorfindel found them swimming! Erestor was trying very hard not to cry! Was that because of him? Reaching out with a dirty hand, Glorfindel’s fingers gently trailed the dark eyebrows.

 

Erestor leaned into the caress, composed himself and then smiled, weakly. “Would you like to go for a swim?”

 

A swim? Glorfindel lacked the energy necessary to do that, but taking a bath would be nice. He nodded once.

 

“Éomer, Legolas! Halt! We will rest here!” Erestor steered his horse toward the stream, eager to take care of his beloved. Now that Glorfindel was beginning to trust him, he felt encouraged, hopeful even!

 

Glorfindel wanted to dismount himself, but found that he had overestimated his strength. Fortunately, the Man, Éomer, had foreseen his impatience and was there to catch him.

 

“Please, allow me…” Erestor quickly dismounted, angry with himself for not catching Glorfindel himself.

 

Éomer handed Glorfindel to Erestor, bowed respectfully, and then returned to Legolas, who was busy tending to their horses.

 

“I will be gentle. Do not worry, love.” Erestor tenderly guided Glorfindel toward the stream and sat him down on the grass.

 

Glorfindel frowned, wondering what Erestor was referring to. He found out a moment later when Erestor began to remove the dirty and blood-covered clothing from his body. Glorfindel gulped, realizing Erestor had stripped him naked. Shouldn’t he be panicking right now? But he wasn’t. Looking into the almond-shaped, brown eyes, he realized he trusted this Elf unconditionally. Maybe there was some truth to the matter that they had been lovers. But, he wondered, would they be lovers again?

 

Erestor quickly removed his own clothes and then assisted Glorfindel into the water. Looking about, Glorfindel found that he was alone with Erestor. Éomer and Legolas had distanced themselves to give them some privacy.

 

“Why don’t you try floating for now? I will wash your hair and remove the grime from your body.” Erestor kept his tone tender and his touches light as he didn’t want Glorfindel to grow uncomfortable.

 

The suggestion was sound and Glorfindel stretched in the water, which felt surprisingly warm and comforting. He even closed his eyes for a short while, enjoying the feel of Erestor’s hands running through his hair, gently untangling and washing it. His muscles relaxed and he drifted off into a healing sleep again. Glorfindel hadn’t slept properly for a long time, save for last night, and had a lot of catching up to do. And now that he was safe, his body judged the time had come to recuperate.

 

Glorfindel awoke with a start the moment Erestor lifted him from the water. The dark-haired Elf had to carry him onto the shore, and Glorfindel realized he hated feeling this weak, this helpless. Something told him that he was supposed to be the one protecting and caring for Erestor. It wasn’t supposed to be this way around!

 

“Here, you can wear mine.”

 

Erestor’s cryptic remark confused Glorfindel momentarily, but then he realized the dark-haired Elf was referring to the brown leggings. In the end, Erestor dried his skin, though Glorfindel made a valiant effort to do so himself – but he failed. Erestor then helped him into the leggings. They didn’t fit perfectly, but were nonetheless comfortable. A blue shirt had been placed on the grass next to the leggings and Glorfindel recalled seeing the other Elf wearing it earlier. This shirt belonged to Legolas. Erestor assisted him slipping into it and Glorfindel smiled, contently, now that he was properly dressed again.

 

Returning Glorfindel’s smile, Erestor quickly slipped into his robes and buttoned up the front. “You already look much better,” said Erestor, kneeling beside Glorfindel. “Now that the blood and dirt is gone, you look like much improved.” Erestor’s fingertips gently examined Glorfindel’s head injury.

 

Glorfindel wanted to pull away, but felt compelled to remain still as he looked into the dark eyes. There was love there, love and compassion. He knew that instant that Erestor would never hurt him.


	4. Chapter 4

A Love Returned

Part 3

 

After tending to the horses, Legolas removed his clothes, eager to clean the dirt of the road from his hair and body. As he didn’t want Erestor and Glorfindel to feel watched or spied on, he made certain that there was ample distance between them before wading into the stream. Erestor was more than capable to look after their charge and he reckoned they appreciated the privacy.

 

Growing curious, Legolas looked over his shoulder and found that Éomer stood undecided, casting longing looks at the water, but at the same time something was holding him back. /We need to talk,/ realized Legolas. This had been building since their first encounter and the longer they left it unaddressed the more pressure would build between them. He had been a fool to believe he could let this matter rest.

 

The attraction had been growing stronger and they both felt it; a tension continued to build between them. Sooner or later, that sexual tension would find a way out. “Aren’t you joining me? The water is warmer than it looks.” He had better guide them through this before the tension got the better of them and made them do things they would regret later. Now, the tension was still manageable.

 

Éomer shrugged his shoulders once. “I don’t think so.” He simply couldn’t take the risk of taking off his clothes and exposing himself to Legolas. He was already hard, having watched the naked Elf wade into the stream and he wasn’t certain he could control his actions if he were naked as well and so close to the object of his desire. His eyes narrowed, seeing the frown on the Elf’s face. /He has absolutely no idea what he does to me./ Legolas was fluid grace, deadly elegance and definitely the one he had lost his heart to. He had already accepted that he wouldn’t wed or sire any children as women held no fascination for him. It was the warriors who attracted him.

 

Éowyn and Faramir would produce the heirs to their kingdoms and Éomer had made his peace with that. But what remained hard to accept was the fact that the one being he desired above everything was out of his reach. An Elven Prince – an Immortal – surely felt no interest in a mere Man.

 

Legolas was very fair, but there was more to the Elf than just his exquisite looks. They had fought side by side in battle and Legolas had earned his respect and friendship. That was why he had felt hurt when Legolas had declined his offer to escort them to Helm’s Deep. Only after Erestor had talked to the Woodland Elf had Legolas agreed. Did Legolas like him so little? Why was that? And what could he do to change the Elf’s perception of him? How to win Legolas’ trust and respect?

 

“I hope you do not mind me saying this, but you reek of horse, Éomer King. A bath would do you good.”

 

Legolas’ words surprised him, and Éomer carefully schooled his expression. It almost seemed like the Elf wanted him to join him in the water. But why?

 

Taking an experimental sniff, Éomer admitted that he did carry a distinct smell and that a swim would do him good. But he was still reluctant to undress in Legolas’ presence.

 

Legolas studied Éomer and realized the Man felt uncomfortable with the idea of joining him. Why? Éomer didn’t strike him as shy or overly modest. He decided to give the Man some personal space and swam away from the shore, making it clear that Éomer could have his privacy if he required so.

 

So, Legolas had already tired of this discussion? Éomer’s expression grew sad. Now, he had driven the Elf away, whilst he had wanted Legolas to stay close! Cursing himself, Éomer quickly stripped and took a first, tentative step into the water.

 

Argh, it was freezing cold! Legolas had lied to him! But no, wait, Elves didn’t feel the cold, so Legolas couldn’t have known the water was this cold. Gnashing his teeth against the cold, he dived into the water, fully immersing himself. He swam for a while and then took to the surface again. Fat droplets of water dripped from his hair, which was now curling with a vengeance.

 

To his surprise, Legolas was closer than he had expected. The Woodland Elf was to his right, undoing his braids. His fingers itched to reach out and touch the silken mass, but he behaved himself.

 

Legolas peeked at Éomer. The Man remained in the deeper part of the river, the water covering his lower body. Legolas smiled, sweetly, finally understanding why Éomer felt so uncomfortable. The Man was probably aroused and felt embarrassed. “Would you assist me? My hair is tangled.”

 

Éomer swallowed, nervously, and a weak blush formed on his face. Did Legolas know what the Elf was doing to him? Probably not or Legolas would never have invited him closer. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his thoughts pure, as visions of bending Legolas over and taking him filled his mind. These thoughts only made him grow harder and he sucked in a moan which threatened to leave his lips. “I am not sure I should.”

 

Legolas handed Éomer the comb he had brought with him and then turned his back toward the Man. “Undo the braids first.”

 

Éomer’s hands trembled, moving through the silken mass. He hardly encountered any tangles, and after undoing the braids, he combed the long strands. His vision grew blurry momentarily, picturing his fingers buried in the golden hair whilst riding Legolas hard.

 

/Stop it!/ Éomer felt angry and embarrassed at being unable to control these passionate images. /Legolas will never be a willing participant! He isn’t interested in me in that way and he never will! He is an ancient being and would never engage in such physical activities; certainly not with him! A Man!

 

Legolas sensed some of the emotional turmoil Éomer was in, and realized it was time to take the lead again. The Man was confused, shy, and obviously ashamed of his desires. The race of Man never ceased to amaze him.

 

Éomer’s breath caught when Legolas turned toward him, unexpectedly. The alabaster-like skin was covered by tiny droplets that seemed to hug the skin close and teasingly flowed down the hairless chest. Oh, he would gladly give away his kingdom to be one of those droplets!

 

Seeing the fascination in Éomer’s hazel eyes, Legolas made his final decision. This was going to happen here and now!

 

Legolas’ next action totally surprised Éomer. Suddenly, strong arms came up behind his back, pulling him close and eager lips covered his in an arduous kiss. Stunned, his eyes widened and they searched Legolas’ azure ones. Éomer found them sparkling with mirth, compassion and desire and he wondered how it was possible that Legolas was actually interested in him in that way!

 

Grinding their groins together, Legolas eagerly demonstrated his own need. Breaking off the kiss, he smiled, sweetly. “Do not act surprised, Éomer. We both knew this was coming.”

 

Hope flared in Éomer’s hazel eyes. “You want this, then?”

 

“Would I instigate this if I did not?” Legolas purred softly. The tip of his tongue dashed out and licked a trail down Éomer’s throat. He had taken a handful of lovers in his long life and each and every one of them had been warriors, which he had considered his equals. “We both want this. We need it.”

 

Éomer’s hand trembled as it trailed down Legolas’ spine until it came to rest on a perfectly formed buttock. “I…” But the words refused to come to him. All blood seemed to rush down to his groin and he thrust against Legolas in a sensual daze.

 

“You want me,” whispered Legolas, searching the lust-filled eyes.

 

“I have wanted you from the moment we met,” admitted Éomer. “Not many dare aim a weapon at me, but you did. You stared at me with defiance in your eyes and… I fought and bested many, but I am not certain I could defeat you.” And that thought aroused him even more. Legolas was much stronger than the lithe body suggested. The Elf was a deadly killer and could probably end his life in mere seconds. 

 

“I feel the same way about you,” admitted Legolas. If it ever came to a fight between them, he wasn’t certain who would win. Considering the Man, he ran his hands down the chest, amused at feeling chest hair for the first time beneath his fingertips. Éomer struck him as wild, passionate and strong; qualities which he definitely approved of in a lover.

 

Éomer’s eyes widened, feeling Legolas turn in the embrace. The Woodland Elf gave him a teasing smile from over his shoulder and then bend forward, placing his hands flat against a rock. This couldn’t mean what he hoped it meant! But his eager hands already cupped the perfect buttocks and one finger found a way down the cleft, exploring. “Are you certain?”

 

Legolas moaned, parted his legs farther and looked at Éomer from over his shoulder once more. “Do it.”

 

Massaging the opening to Legolas’ body, Éomer suddenly hesitated. “I brought no oil to ease my way in. What if I hurt you?”

 

Touched by Éomer’s concern, Legolas chuckled. “Éomer, I am an Elf and I heal fast. Even if you did hurt me, I will have healed by the time we finish!” Pushing back, he grinded his buttocks against the Man’s hard flesh, clearly demonstrating his need to be taken. He chose his lovers carefully, and also the fashion in which they made love to him. Today, he was in the mood to be taken – wild and hard.

 

Éomer carefully slid a finger into the warm opening, massaging the guardian ring. “I want you,” he breathed, hard. “But I refuse to hurt you.”

 

“You won’t hurt me,” whispered Legolas, moaning pitifully when Éomer’s fingertip located his prostate. “I am willing, so why are you stalling?” Oh, he hoped Éomer would release the passion inside him; the Man’s fiery potential would make him burn! “Do not hold back!”

 

Éomer stood wide-spread, took himself into his hand and positioned himself for penetration. “As you wish.” Sliding inside, he buried himself to the hilt, barely registering Legolas’ sharp hiss. A warm and tight glove engulfed him and he was doing all he could to stop himself from thrusting uncontrollably.

 

Legolas had thrown back his head at the exact moment of penetration and bit his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out. Éomer was obviously well-endowed and the Man’s hard flesh filled him completely. He felt full – incredibly full – and completely at Éomer’s mercy; just the way he had wanted it.

 

Éomer placed his hands on either side of Legolas’ waist. Bending forward from the waist, he managed to lick Legolas’ neck, nibbling at an earlobe. “Like this?”

 

“Oh, yes!” Legolas shifted slightly to accommodate Éomer as good as possible and then surrendered to this intense feeling that was building inside him. His fingernails clawed at the rock until he had found a hold that would steady him and then he pushed back.

 

Éomer briefly closed his eyes as shards of ecstasy pierced him. Unable to hold back any longer, he let go, setting a pounding rhythm. Occasionally he looked at that delightful backside and savored the sight of his hard flesh burying itself in that warm and welcoming body.

 

Éomer’s hand moved through his silken hair, roughly grabbed hold of the strands and pulled his head back. Legolas’ eyes widened with pleasure whilst Éomer rode him hard, using the hold on his hair to demonstrate he was in charge. Unable to stroke himself to completion, as he couldn’t lose the support the rock presented, Legolas rocked helplessly against Éomer, who set a fast and deep pace, using him hard.

 

“Yes…. Oh, yes…” Éomer growled, feeling his groin tighten. He was close… so close! But he didn’t want to come yet, so he halted in the midst of his movements, still deeply buried inside the hot channel. Legolas yelped, helplessly, but didn’t protest. Éomer leaned in closer, and used the hold on the silken hair to pull Legolas toward him. The Elf was now forced to move with him and lost the support the rock had presented.

 

Standing upright, Legolas threw back his head and shivered with delight, feeling Éomer wrap an arm around his waist. “You are burning me.” And he loved being burned! “Make the flames rise and devour me!”

 

Éomer needed no more encouragement. His hand moved down until his fingers were able to curl around Legolas’ neglected erection. He stroked firmly and set his thrusts to the same rhythm. It didn’t take them long to finally reach completion.

 

Legolas climaxed first, and the warm cream mingled with the river’s water. He hung limply in Éomer’s arm, as the Man continued to thrust. Oh, he had never been with someone who lasted as long as the Rohirrim!

 

Éomer finally let go, possessing Legolas one last time and then climaxed. Still buried inside Legolas, he released his seed deep into the trembling and exhausted body. 

 

Unable to undertake any kind of action, Legolas relied on Éomer to support him and to keep him from plunging forward. Even though the Man had found release, Éomer was still hard inside him.

 

Panting hard, Éomer leaned in closer, pushed the hair away from the pointed ear and licked firmly. Legolas trembled violently and Éomer grinned wickedly, letting his tongue trail down the long and elegant throat. Just below the collar, he marked Legolas, biting gently.

 

Just when Legolas had thought the exchange couldn’t become any more sensual or intense, he was proven wrong, feeling Éomer bite.

 

Slowly, Éomer came down from the sexual high and he wrapped both arms around the shaky Elf. The experience had left him sated, but also confused and slightly ashamed of the liberties he had taken with Legolas, possessing him in such a manner.

 

Legolas groaned, feeling Éomer pull out and leaned against the rock once more, panting softly. Strong arms wrapped themselves around him, steadying him. More kisses, this time light and gentle, were bestowed onto his throat. “You may ride me any time you like, Rohirrim.”

 

Éomer’s laugh was forced and Legolas sensed it. Turning in the embrace, he studied the King closely. “What is amiss? Did our lovemaking displease you?”

 

/Lovemaking,/ registered Éomer, pleased. Legolas returned his feelings then! But then he sobered, recalling the hiss, filled with pain, which Legolas had released upon being entered in such an unprepared way. “I owe you an apology. I don’t know what possessed me… What made me do that!” He was the kind of lover that made certain his beloved enjoyed their lovemaking. He wasn’t someone to take what he wanted, and yet, that was exactly what he had done! And Legolas had let him!

 

Legolas raised a hand and smoothed a few wet curls away from Éomer’s face. “You did everything right. I wanted you to take me in that way.”

 

“But…” 

 

“I do not know what our next round of lovemaking will be like,” said Legolas, soothingly caressing Éomer’s face. “But I will let you know in what way I desire you.”

 

Some of Éomer’s shame and embarrassment died with those words. “I would never…”

 

Legolas silenced the Man by placing a finger across Éomer’s lips. “You pleased me, Éomer. There is no need to doubt my words. I wanted you to best me, to possess me.” Smiling seductively, he added, “And who knows, maybe I will be the one to possess you the next time?”

 

The next time, that was all Éomer heard. There would actually be a next time! “I have feelings for you,” he admitted in an unguarded moment, after kissing and then guiding Legolas finger away from his lips. “I think I love you.”

 

“We will discuss this later,” replied Legolas, realizing the road ahead of them wouldn’t be easy. “But at least we know the attraction is mutual.”

 

“Oh, yes, it is!” Éomer kept one arm folded around Legolas’ chest, lifted him, and urged the Woodland Elf to wrap his long legs around his waist. Holding Legolas close in this manner, he kissed him passionately, wishing he would never have to let go of his Elf again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel found himself wondering about Erestor. Each touch, each look, spoke of love and dedication. How was it possible that he had simply forgotten about the dark-haired Elf, who clearly loved him? “Tell me…?”

 

Erestor, who had found some healing herbs and was now brewing tea above an improvised fire, stared questioningly at his companion. He smiled, once more looking at the Elf he loved so much – he had thought he would never lay eyes upon him again, and yet, here they sat, side by side. Glorfindel was still alive! “Tell you what?”

 

“About… us?” Glorfindel frowned, feeling cold again now that Arien had begun her descend. He pulled Erestor’s riding cloak closer around his frame and continued to look at the other Elf, hoping for more information. “You said… that… we were lovers.” His voice was slowly improving now that he had a reason to talk.

 

“Aye, we were lovers.” Erestor briefly felt melancholy, using the past tense. He hoped they would become lovers once more.

 

“How… did we… find out?” Glorfindel accepted the mug filled with healing tea that Erestor handed him and stared into the swirling hot liquid, letting it cool down.

 

“I came to you one night and we made love.” Erestor closed his eyes, remembering the night they had shared. “The next morning, you confronted me and I admitted my feelings to you. Then you did the same. I also gave you that ring, which is a family heirloom.”

 

Glorfindel stared at the ring. “Do you… want it… back?”

 

“Why would I want it back?” Panic momentarily colored Erestor’s eyes.

 

“Because… I do not… remember you?”

 

“Nay, I want you to keep it. I am confident your memories will return in time. They must!”

 

The frown on Glorfindel’s brow deepened. Erestor had repeated a name several times since they had met – a name that made no sense to him. “What is… Helm’s Deep?”

 

Erestor nervously moistened his lips. He had simply assumed Glorfindel remembered that dreadful night! “There was a great battle and you were wounded. Our friends believed you dead and Legolas returned your sword to me. We were all convinced you had died that night.”

 

“My sword?” Glorfindel sipped his tea, never letting Erestor out of his sight. When he had still dwelt in the forest he had given up hope that he would ever learn his identity or his past, but it seemed Erestor possessed all those answers.

 

Erestor slowly rose from the grass, collected the long Elven sword, and placed it on the ground. “Aye, your sword. Do you recognize it?”

 

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, as he tried to remember. But the sword sparked no memories and he shook his head eventually. “I do not.”

 

Erestor sighed, deeply. “Maybe it does not matter,” he said, troubled. “Maybe we should focus on the present and the future instead of the past.”

 

“I would like… to remember… my past though.” Glorfindel gave Erestor a pleading look. “Tell me more?”

 

Erestor sat down again and scooted closer to the blond warrior. “I will tell you everything you want to know.” Slowly, needing to touch Glorfindel badly, he raised his right hand and stroked the long, fair hair.

 

Glorfindel frowned at the intimate gesture, but didn’t pull away. Something in Erestor’s eyes held him prisoner and he allowed the caress. “Tell me more about… you, Erestor…” He was growing tired again, but refused to give in to his fatigue just yet. “Who are you?”

 

“I am the one who loves you dearly,” replied Erestor, automatically. “I would die for you.”

 

Glorfindel’s frown deepened. “Do not say… such a thing!” For some reason it was extremely important to him that Erestor was alive and well.

 

Seeing the protectiveness and concern in Glorfindel’s eyes made Erestor smile. “You care.”

 

“Of course… I do… Why would I not?” Erestor seemed to be a very caring and easy loveable Elf and Glorfindel couldn’t deny he felt attracted toward the raven beauty.

 

“Thank you,” whispered Erestor, feeling hopeful that, even should Glorfindel’s memories never return, the blond would fall in love with him all over again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel was soundly asleep, and Erestor finally succumbed to the need to have his beloved close. Moving closer, he carefully slipped into place beside the blond and pulled Glorfindel against him. The injured Elf stirred, the eyes opened and filled with terror, instantly making Erestor feel guilty for startling Glorfindel. “It is I,” he said, soothingly. “I will keep watch. Please go back to sleep. I will keep you safe.”

 

Glorfindel fought an inner battle. His every instinct told him to find a shelter where he could hide, but at the same time something told him to make certain Erestor remained close. In the end, he made a very important decision by resting his head against Erestor’s shoulder and accepting the other Elf’s presence. The sword, which still lay in front of him, caught his attention and for one moment he swore there was blood on it.

 

“Is something amiss?” Erestor had felt Glorfindel first shiver and then tense.

 

“I thought… for one moment… that… I saw… blood on the blade.” Glorfindel pressed closer to Erestor in need of comfort. It was amazing; Erestor had quickly gained his trust!

 

Erestor nodded once, feeling nervous. “There must have been a great amount of blood, Glorfindel. Many were injured that night, and many died.”

 

“But I survived.” Glorfindel was thankful that speech came to him much easier now. When he had first addressed Erestor his voice had been hoarse and had sounded raw. The words had refused to come to him back then, but forming sentences was becoming easier for him.

 

“Aye, you did, though no one knew.” Erestor carefully folded his arms around Glorfindel and rested his chin atop of the blond hair, staying clear of any injured areas. “First Legolas told me you had died and he presented me with your sword, and later on, the twins confirmed your death.” For some elusive reason he was hesitant to bring up the bond that had unwillingly formed when they had made love that night. Neither of them had wanted to bond and he didn’t want to spring such serious on Glorfindel whilst the blond was still suffering from memory loss. He would tell Glorfindel later.

 

“This feels… nice,” realized Glorfindel, almost purring from contentment. Feeling safe and warm, his eyes began to half-close again, as he drifted back into a healing sleep.

 

“Aye, it does.” Erestor, smiling happily, pressed a chaste kiss on Glorfindel’s hair. He was determined to restore their love and their old life.


	5. Chapter 5

A Love Returned

Part 4/4

 

Éomer couldn’t help being worried. Although Legolas moved gracefully beside him, the Man wondered if he hadn’t inflicted some internal damage during their rough play. He knew better than to inquire though, realizing Legolas would probably just ignore the question or smile at him in that deceivingly sweet way. What had happened in the water confused him; Éomer had never thought Legolas would react so passionately to his advances.

 

“Where does this leave us?” Éomer hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, but he had.

 

Legolas smiled, although Éomer couldn’t see it, as the Man had fallen back and was now walking behind him. “It leaves us hunting for food as both Glorfindel and you must be hungry.” Legolas knew exactly what Éomer had meant to ask him, but preferred not to address the matter right now. He hoped Éomer would let it rest.

 

Seeing movement to his right, Legolas placed an arrow on his bow and aimed it at the rabbit hopping away from them. Taking the animal’s life pained him, but Glorfindel was still very weak and the meat would strengthen him. “One rabbit won’t be enough.”

 

Éomer beat him to their prey and he picked the rabbit up from the earth. Raising an eyebrow inquisitively, Legolas wondered about the troubled expression in the hazel eyes. Slowly, Éomer’s behavior began to make sense and he realized that postponing this conversation was no longer possible. “I am fine, Éomer. You did not hurt me.” 

 

“You aren’t sore? You aren’t hurting? I would never forgive myself if you were.” Éomer allowed Legolas to draw him closer and searched the puzzled eyes. “I can’t help worrying about you. I know that you are not as fragile as you look, but…”

 

Legolas’ eyebrow inched even higher. “I look *fragile*?” In his long life he had been called many things, but never fragile!

 

“That wasn’t what I wanted to say,” said Éomer in an apologetic voice. “It is just… You have awoken fiercely protective feelings in me, and although you don’t need protection, I can’t help feeling that way!” His emotions overwhelmed him and he buried Legolas in a tight hug. “It is who I am.”

 

Legolas allowed the hug, rested his head against Éomer’s shoulder, and smiled. He had chosen well when he had allowed himself to fall for the Man. Should he tell Éomer that by Elven standards they were now considered wed? No, he shouldn’t. He couldn’t ruin Éomer’s future. As a King, he was required to wed and sire heirs. Their liaison would be short, but passionate. “Hear me, Éomer, King of Rohan. I do not need your protection, but I willingly accept it because you love me.”

 

Éomer chuckled, pulled away, and made eye contact with Legolas. “My Prince… You captured my heart. It is yours to command.”

 

“Such sweet poetry makes me want to ravish you, my Liege,” teased Legolas. “But unfortunately, this is not the right time for it. The hour grows late and Glorfindel needs to eat. We will continue this conversation another time.” Éomer released him and Legolas focused on the hunt once more.

 

“Will you come to Edoras with me and sit at my side in the Golden Hall of Meduseld?” Éomer held his breath; he hadn’t wanted to ask Legolas just yet, but he needed to know the Woodland Elf’s answer.

 

“You are most stubborn,” said Legolas, whilst releasing another arrow, which took down a second rabbit. “You are determined to discuss this now, then?” Legolas bent forward and collected the second rabbit. He turned to face Éomer and read insecurity and hope in the hazel eyes. “You do realize that I am over two thousand years old and that I will remain like this whilst you will grow old and eventually die?”

 

Éomer cringed at the way that sounded, but it *was* the truth. “Will that be hard on you? Watching me grow old and succumb to death?” Was that enough reason for Legolas to reconsider their budding liaison?

 

Legolas cocked his head and raised a hand to finger one of Éomer’s wild curls. “A Man’s life is a mere moment to me…” Pausing, he carefully chose his word. “I would stay with you until the end, if you will have me.”

 

Éomer’s expression immediately brightened. “You would? You would side at my side and rule Rohan with me?” He didn’t plan on hiding his love for another male from his court. He wouldn’t live a lie.

 

“I would.” Legolas leaned in closer and gently claimed Éomer’s lips. The Man moaned into his mouth and Legolas smiled, knowingly. “Not here… Not now.”

 

Éomer reluctantly agreed. “Another time.” Resting one hand at the nape of Legolas’ neck, he massaged the muscles there. “I only want you. I don’t want there to be any others.”

 

Legolas smiled, dotingly. Maybe this was the right moment to tell Éomer about Elven custom.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“We are what?” Éomer stared at Legolas. “We are wed?”

 

Legolas chuckled, softly. Éomer had stood there for several minutes after he had confided in the Man. “Do you wish to sit down? I can continue the hunt alone.”

 

“No, I am feeling… better.” Éomer slowly shook his head. “You knew we were married and you neglected to tell me? Do you like seeing me suffer?”

 

“I was not certain you wanted us to form a bond,” explained Legolas. “You rule Rohan. You are expected to marry a female who can give you heirs.”

 

Éomer fumed. “My sister and Faramir will produce heirs! Why would you worry about such a thing?”

 

Legolas smiled, happily. “So, you love me and wish to ravish me for the rest of your life?”

 

“Oh, yes!” Éomer promptly kissed Legolas, pulled the Woodland Elf close and cupped his lover’s member in his hand, fondling it through the fabric of the leggings. “I want to ravish you for the rest of my life.”

 

“Behave, Éomer King,” said Legolas, teasingly. “All we caught on this hunt were two rabbits, which are not nearly enough to fill our bellies.”

 

“Oh, I caught more than that,” said Éomer, panting hard. “I caught myself a husband.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor didn’t bother to look up when Éomer and Legolas joined them. Night had fallen and Ithil stood high, illuminating the sky. “The fire is already dying. What took you so long?”

 

Éomer and Legolas exchanged a guilty look. “We were distracted,” replied Legolas, eventually. He sat on his heels and rekindled the fire, adding more wood. Éomer was already cleaning the rabbits so they could roast them later. “How does Glorfindel fare?” inquired Legolas.

 

“He has been asleep for most of the time.” Erestor held Glorfindel close, sharing his body heat with the injured Elf. “He allows me close now. I think I am winning his trust.”

 

“That is good,” said Legolas, who now accepted the rabbits and placed them above the fire. “We also found some healing herbs.”

 

“I found some as well. I already made tea, but if you brew it anew it will be more potent.” Erestor stroked Glorfindel’s long hair, inhaling his lover’s scent. “I wish we were home already. He belongs in a warm bed and healers should be attending to him.”

 

“You are Glorfindel’s best medicine,” said Legolas, amused. “Have some faith in yourself.”

 

Éomer busied himself brewing the healing tea, but continued to throw glances at Legolas. He wondered if the Woodland Elf planned on sharing the news of their bond with Erestor. He hoped so, as he didn’t want to hide his love.

 

Erestor finally looked at Legolas, but then his gaze quickly shifted to Éomer, sensing a solid balance had been achieved between the two warriors. He smiled, knowingly, when Legolas’ collar shifted, revealing a passion mark. Ah, that was the way it was between those two? He should have realized the attraction sooner, but his mind had been too focused on Glorfindel, and understandably so.

 

Legolas had caught Erestor’s knowing smirk, and exchanged a look with Éomer, who looked hopeful at him. Briefly, he wondered what to do.

 

“You are an Elf, Erestor. Would you tell your future husband that making love means officially getting married?” Éomer gave Legolas a smug grin.

 

Erestor chuckled. “I would have the good manners to enlighten my future mate, aye.” Glorfindel stirred against him, and Erestor pressed a chaste kiss onto the back of the blond’s head. Once his charge was fully awake he would make certain Glorfindel was fed and drank two cups of the healing tea at least.

 

“Legolas didn’t, you see,” said Éomer, smiling innocently at Legolas. “And now I am married to him.”

 

Glorfindel tensed in his arms and Erestor realized the injured Elf was fighting a flight reflex. Eager to distract Glorfindel, he continued to talk to Éomer and Legolas. That way, Glorfindel had time to adjust to this situation. “I wonder what King Thranduil will say when he finds out he is now related to the King of Rohan.”

 

Legolas blushed, weakly. “My father has no idea and I do not mind keeping it that way.”

 

“And why is that?” Éomer hoped Legolas didn’t feel ashamed of having a mortal for a mate.

 

“He might want to rule Rohan as well,” said Legolas, teasingly. But, privately, he cringed. He hadn’t considered informing his father yet, as he had no idea how his father would react. Thranduil loved his youngest son, and would probably accept Éomer, realizing it was a temporary bond as the Man would grow old and eventually die. But, at any rate, he wasn’t eager to find out his father’s reaction.

 

“Rohan is mine to rule,” replied Éomer, playing along. “But, I might be inclined to let you rule aside me.”

 

Legolas briefly deserted the fire and bend forward, embracing Éomer from behind. The Man sat on the grass and Legolas leaned in closer, burying his face in the bronze curls. “You have a Prince-Consort then.”

 

“I wonder…” said Éomer, playing along. “Am I a Prince of Mirkwood now as well?”

 

Erestor heard Glorfindel’s stomach growl hungrily and decided it was time to end the couple’s banter. “Please discuss this another time!”

 

Legolas gave Éomer one last seductive smile and then removed the rabbits from the fire. He put the meat into a bowl and handed it to Glorfindel. “Eat.”

 

Glorfindel smiled, gratefully, deciding he liked the company he was in. Erestor was soft, warm and kind. Legolas struck him as a capable and honorable warrior and Éomer… He liked the Man as well. Hungrily, he began to eat.

 

Éomer had finished brewing the tea and placed it beside Glorfindel so the injured Elf could drink it after he had finished eating. Hungrily, he eyed the meat himself. He wouldn’t take any food away from Glorfindel, but his stomach was growling too!

 

“There is enough for the both of you.” Legolas handed Éomer a royal portion of the meat and then leaned back against the Man. Éomer wrapped one arm around Legolas and once he had a tight hold on the Elf, he proceeded to eat himself. “I know of a small settlement close. We won’t pass it by, but I could detour and acquire proper food and maybe an extra set of clothes.”

 

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Erestor placed Glorfindel’s empty bowl aside and handed him the tea. “Sip slowly as it is still hot.” Hopefully, the healing quality of the tea would help strengthen Glorfindel and speed up his recovery.

 

Glorfindel complied, using the time to study his companions. By now, he was convinced that they meant him no harm, and that they were actually rather protective, Erestor especially. He cleared his throat, and then addressed them. “I wanted to thank you… All of you…”

 

Erestor buried Glorfindel in a loose hug. “I just wish I had undertaken this journey sooner. I waited too long.”

 

“But you came for me, didn’t you?” Glorfindel looked at Erestor from over his shoulder. “You loved me that much.”

 

“I love you still,” replied Erestor, gently caressing Glorfindel’s face. “And I hope you will fall in love with me again, should your memories never return.” The smile on Glorfindel’s face filled him with hope. “Do you remember me at all?”

 

“I do not,” said Glorfindel, honestly. “But even though I do not remember you I still feel some… attraction.”

 

Erestor smiled, brilliantly. “You do?”

 

“Aye, there is something about you that…” Glorfindel paused, searching for the right words. “That makes me want to have you close.”

 

Erestor realized they were taking the first steps to form a new relationship and was determined to make the best of it. “I do love you, Glorfindel. With or without your memories.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Do you think Glorfindel will remember his past again?” Éomer settled down at a respectful distance from Erestor and Glorfindel, wanting them to have some privacy. Legolas lay down behind him and pulled him close. Éomer shifted willingly until he was pressed against Legolas’ chest and the Elf promptly wrapped his long, strong legs around him, along with his arms.

 

“I hope so,” admitted Legolas. “Though, I feel they will fall in love all over again.” Legolas nuzzled Éomer’s neck, burying his nose in the wild locks. “You smell of horses, the forest and… clove.”

 

“Do you like it?” Éomer threw his head back, making it easier for Legolas to explore his throat and neck.

 

“Very much,” said Legolas, panting softly. “Oh, I want you!”

 

Éomer’s eyes widened slightly. “But they are still awake and we are in their line of sight!” His groin had tightened as well, but Legolas couldn’t be serious!

 

“I know of a way…” Legolas licked just below Éomer’s ear and managed to slide a hand past Éomer’s waistband. “Use your riding cloak to cover us.” Oh, this was most wicked and he was salivating at the thought of claiming Éomer in this way.

 

His hormones had long taken over, as his body demanded caresses and release, so Éomer complied. The cloak covered them properly and when Legolas pushed down his breeches, Éomer hissed with anticipation. He shifted slightly, allowed Legolas easier access to his backside. “Legolas… Erestor will realize what we are doing!”

 

“It is hardly of any interest to him,” whispered Legolas, who now squeezed one of Éomer’s buttocks. “He is focused on Glorfindel.”

 

“Do you have oil?” Éomer panted hard, feeling Legolas free himself from the restraining leggings. The Elf was hard, and the aroused flesh already slippery with pre-ejaculate.

 

“Aye, I do.” Legolas grinned, wickedly, reaching for the oil and removing the stopper. Normally, he used this oil to keep his skin smooth and subtle and to remove tangles from his hair, but now it would serve another, much more pleasurable purpose. After luxuriously coating his erection with the oil, he shifted, and then pulled Éomer toward him. His lover had pulled his knees close to his chest and the opening to Éomer’s body was perfectly positioned in front of his eager flesh. “Slowly,” Legolas whispered. “I do not want to hurt you.”

 

Biting his bottom lip, Éomer nodded. Deep lines of concentration formed on his brow when he slowly pushed back, impaling himself on Legolas’ shaft.

 

Legolas carefully wrapped his arms around Éomer’s waist, pulling the Man close until he was completely buried inside the warm channel. “If Erestor looks at us now it will look like I am merely holding you in my arms, embracing you, but we know the truth, do we not? The truth is that I have finally claimed you.”

 

Sweat formed on Éomer’s body; Legolas hadn’t properly prepared him for penetration and the hard flesh felt huge inside him. He rested the back of his head against Legolas’ shoulder and stared at the star-lit sky, always aware of the hot flesh inside him.

 

“Move, Éomer King, and take yourself.” Legolas’ right hand found the Man’s erection and fondled it, but not quite stroking yet, as he didn’t want Éomer to come too quickly. “Do it.”

 

Éomer drew in a deep breath and then moved, eventually pushing back again. Moans escaped his lips, and he bit on his bottom lip to keep himself from making more noise.

 

“You are tight, my Liege. I reckon it has been a while since someone possessed you?”

 

Éomer had thought that he couldn’t grow any harder, but he did. With Legolas in control of their lovemaking, he surrendered to the increasingly wild thrusts and tried to be as quiet as possible. But that wasn’t easy, as his lover masterfully hit his prostrate with each deep stroke. 

 

“Oh, I love the way you fit around me – perfectly.” Legolas licked the tip of Éomer’s ear and then moved down to nibble on the ear lobe. “You feel feverish in my arms – why is that? Is it because I am so deep inside you that you feel at my mercy? For you *are* at my mercy.” Legolas stressed his words by squeezing hard at the base of Éomer’s leaking shaft. “*I* will decide when you come, my King.” He stopped thrusting and bit hard below Éomer’s ear. “You marked me, and now I have marked you.”

 

Éomer lost control. All he wanted was to climax, and feel Legolas climax inside him, but the Elf had stilled all movement. “Why are you so cruel?”

 

“Cruel? I am merely making us last.” But Legolas took pity on his lover and set a comfortable pace, keeping in mind that he didn’t want to leave the Man sore as they would spend tomorrow on horseback, so he kept back. “Oh, Éomer, I will not quickly tire of making love to you. You feel so good… so tight… so warm.”

 

Legolas’ seductively whispered words pushed Éomer over the edge and he climaxed, unable to keep back a yelp, which softly rolled from his lips.

 

Legolas savored the sensation of Éomer’s contracting inner muscle and allowed himself to find release as well. “You are *mine* as long as you will live, my Liege.”

 

“Yours…” whispered Éomer, exhausted and sated at the same time. “Do not pull out yet… Please.” He liked feeling Legolas inside him.

 

“I wish I could, my love.” But his member was already softening and now slipped from Éomer’s body. Soothing his exhausted mate by running gentle fingertips along the skin, Legolas whispered, “Our marriage will be filled with passion and lust.”

 

“And love,” added Éomer, looking at Legolas from over his shoulder. “You no longer seem that fragile to me.”

 

“Good!” Legolas chuckled, softly, and pulled Éomer’s breeches back into place. He redid the lacing to his leggings and then curled protectively around his lover. “We will clean ourselves up first thing in the morning. And now I want you to go to sleep.”

 

“Already giving orders, my Prince?”

 

“Only when they are in your best interest, my King.”

 

Éomer laughed, softly, and pressed back at Legolas. “If you keep this up, I will have no energy left to rule my kingdom!”

 

Legolas playfully licked the back of Éomer’s neck. “I have some experience when it comes down to ruling. I replaced my father occasionally.”

 

“Does that mean I can stay in bed after you had your wicked way with me, leaving me sore, and that you will lead the council meetings?”

 

“If need be. And now stop talking, my love. You need your sleep.”

 

Éomer complied, closed his eyes, and drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Legolas immediately caught the amused look Erestor gave him. The dark-haired Elf knew exactly what had just happened! “Well, that means Elrond made you Lord Councilor for a reason!”

 

Erestor laughed, softly, careful not to wake Glorfindel.

 

“Can you blame me for wanting him?” Legolas gave Erestor a most innocent look.

 

Which, the advisor didn’t buy, of course. “Oh, I do not blame you at all. For a mortal he is truly exquisite.” He just wished he had the same level of intimacy with Glorfindel again. He felt lonely now that the injured warrior didn’t remember him. With a sad heart, and much longing, he pressed close to Glorfindel. Allowing himself to remember that one night of shared passion brought him comfort and soothed him. All would be well in the end. Glorfindel’s memories would return and they would go back to being lovers. He had to hang on to that hope.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I only need to close my eyes and see you – truly see, like you were last night, passionate and so alive. Will you wait for me?” Glorfindel stirred lightly in his sleep. In his dreams, he was caressing Erestor’s face and was taken aback, seeing the love shining in the dark, brown eyes.

 

“I will. There never was another one, Glorfindel. You hold my heart for all eternity.”

 

Glorfindel stirred once more and began to leave the deep state of sleep. Only moments now and he would wake up again. But he fought to remain in this dream world, knowing there was more to come; information so valuable that he needed to hear it now!

 

“Will you allow me one more token? A lock of your hair?” In his dream, Glorfindel uncovered his dagger and carefully cut a lock from Erestor’s dark mane. He kissed the silken hair and then carefully slipped his treasure into a pocket. Aye, he remembered doing this; remembered the feel of the texture of hair sliding through his fingers. This had really happened! He began to remember now!

 

“Go now, and then come back to me again.”

 

“Aye, to you.” Glorfindel lost the fight to stay asleep and woke, but all protest died on his lips, finding himself locked tightly in Erestor’s arms. Oh, how could he have forgotten those eyes? The luscious lips? The dark, almost purple glow to Erestor’s raven mane? “I remember you.”

 

Erestor’s breath caught audibly at hearing hose words. Was it possible? Had Glorfindel’s memories returned? Afraid to believe they could be this lucky, Erestor carefully slid a fingertip along Glorfindel’s jaw. “And what do you remember?”

 

“I remember cutting a lock from your hair, you telling me to go and then to come back to you again.” Glorfindel smiled, reassuringly. “I know you, Erestor.”

 

Erestor’s chocolate brown eyes filled with tears, which dripped freely from his cheeks. “Do you?” He had prayed to the Valar, begging them to let Glorfindel remember, but he had almost given up hope! “What else do you remember?”

 

“I remember the night before I marched for Helm’s Deep,” said Glorfindel, smiling radiantly. “I remember making love to you.”

 

Erestor trembled, but managed to wrap his arms even tighter around Glorfindel. “Do you also remember…?”

 

“You telling me that you love me?” Glorfindel marveled at their situation. “Ah, I do. And I also remember admitting my love for you.” Experimentally, his fingertips caressed Erestor’s face. “You came to Helm’s Deep. Why?”

 

“I wanted to pay you my last respects. Legolas returned your sword to me and I hoped I would get some measure of closure visiting Helm’s Deep. Not in my wildest dreams did I dare hope you were still alive!” Tears poured freely from Erestor’s eyes and he sobbed softly against Glorfindel’s chest. The balance between them shifted and Glorfindel moved to reverse the embrace. Now it was the blond warrior holding the trembling raven-haired Elf. “I thought I had lost you!” cried out Erestor.

 

“You did,” said Glorfindel, slowly. “But I returned to you.” This time, Glorfindel only managed a weak smile. “If you had not come to Helm’s Deep I would still be wandering the forest unknowingly that I have a love in this world.” Glorfindel placed a chaste kiss on the crown of Erestor’s head. “I love you, Erestor.”

Glorfindel’s words set off Erestor’s sobbing in earnest. He hated himself for letting himself fall apart in front of the blond warrior, but he had kept this pain inside for too long and it needed a way out. “I was so scared that I could not live without you! I tried so hard to go on, but my life was so pointless!”

 

“You have me now.” Glorfindel placed a finger beneath Erestor’s chin and lifted the tear-stained face so the dark eyes focused on him. “And I won’t leave you ever again.” Glorfindel gently pressed his lips onto Erestor’s and kissed him sweetly. When he broke the kiss off eventually, Erestor’s tears had begun to dry. “I reckon the war is over, then?” The roads seemed safe.

 

“Aye, it is. And Éomer is King of Rohan now.” Realizing Glorfindel needed information, Erestor added, “Estel and Arwen have wed and are now King and Queen of Gondor.”

 

“Elrond?” A sound that held the middle between a sigh and a purr left Glorfindel’s lips, indicating his contentment.

 

“Elrond and most of his household traveled to Minas Tirith to witness the wedding and to prepare for the journey to the Undying Lands.” Erestor snuggled up to Glorfindel, thanking the Valar for allowing Glorfindel’s memories to come back.

 

“The twins?”

 

“They returned to Imladris after witnessing their sister’s wedding. They wanted some peace and quiet to make their choices.”

 

Glorfindel tenderly stroked Erestor’s silken hair. “What do you think their choices will be?”

 

“I think they will choose to belong to the Firstborn, but I doubt they will sail for a while. They will want to stay until after Arwen and Estel’s passing.”

 

Glorfindel cast a curious look at Legolas, who was curled protectively around Éomer. “Did I miss anything?”

 

Erestor chuckled softly. “It appears that there has been an attraction between Éomer and Legolas for quite some time. They decided to finally act on it and are officially wed. A small fact, which Legolas forget to mention to his new husband.”

 

Glorfindel grinned. “So everything has turned out surprisingly well.”

 

“Aye, it has. Especially now that you have returned to me.” Erestor rubbed his cheek against Glorfindel’s chest, purring pleasurably. “I missed you so much.”

 

“And I missed you.” Glorfindel tightened his hold on Erestor and rested his chin on top of the raven head. “I will grow strong again and then I will stake my claim all over again.”

 

Erestor giggled, amused. “I hope you will!”

 

Glorfindel’s features were soft, beaming with love and contentment. He had his memories back, Erestor was in his arms, and the raven-haired Elf still loved him.

 

Life was good.

 

The End.

July 2004


End file.
